Legally Insane
by JadeDragon220
Summary: "Did your little witch burn, Robbie?" I cooed. "Did she cry for you as she died?"
1. The Insanity Begins

Alright, new fanfic time! Although it probably won't be as long a the last one. Actually..I can't promise that...yeah...

Wasnt gonna post this until the new YJ episode came out, but...*shrug*

**Hey, fan art people. Just cause Commando is over doesn't mean I don't wanna see your fanart for it:D**

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><p>My name is Quinn Mallory. I was born with black hair and green eyes. I am thirteen years old.<p>

Three months ago, there was a fire in my apartment building. A girl two doors down from us got some pretty bad burns on her face and arms, an elderly man broke his arm running down the steps. But both of them healed and last time I heard, they're doing fine.

That day, three people died in the fire. Both my parents and my older sister. I miss them, so, so much.

I wish I could grieve openly in the company of a good friend or family member, so I could find some kind of closure. Move on, as much as someone who lost their parents can. but given the circumstances if I so much as whimper I'd be beaten to a bloody pulp...

After I escaped the building, some cops started asking me questions. Apparently, some things I said didn't match up. I was prosecuted, and a trial was set. I never sat before the judge, however, someone had petitioned for me to be declared legally insane.

After all, how messed up does a kid have to be to set fire to their apartemt when they know their family is trapped inside?

I didn't know my family was home. I love them, I'd never do anything to hurt them.

But...I think I did start the fire. At least, accidently.

You see, I'm what people call a meta-human, that's what the doctors tell me. Not sure how I got my powers, one day they are just...there. Pollution, maybe? A bad bit of beef that my mom ate when she was pregnant with me? Although, I can tell you one thing: the day I got my powers is the day my family was killed in the fire.

I'd had a bad day at school. Nobody liked me, and I didn't like anyone right back. I'm not always shy and quiet, in fact when I was at home I couldn't shut up. But whenever I stepped through the double doors of that miserable building I shut my mouth and keep it shut until I was safely back inside my apartment.

I go, or used to go, to one of those progressive schools in New York. The students were supposed to think of themselves as 'partners in learning.' The teachers were called by their first names, and we all sat in beanbag chairs instead of desks. The teachers and principal encouraged peace and harmony, but we still had a serious bullying problem.

Anyway, a stereotypical mean girl names Lindsey and her band of blonde-headed bimbos cornered me in the girl's bathroom. They knocked my stuff to the floor and threw my poetry book in the trash. I remembered feeling something spark in the pit of my stomach, but at the time I'd ignored it.

I waited until the other girls got bored and with me and left the bathroom before I fished my book out of the trash, gathered up my stuff, and got the heck out of there before any more tormentors showed up. I passed my math teacher, Zack, who took one look at me and said. "Bad vibes, dude."

I was furious. Everyone says you're supposed to get an adult when you're bullied, but at my school all you get is a frown and a lecture on how I'm messing up the groovy learning aura. I couldn't trust a single adult at school.

When I got to my apartment building the new doorman thought I was a hood because of my ripped clothes and wouldn't let me in. I explained who I was about five hundred different times, he told me to beat it or he'd call the cops on me. Luckily, a lady going in knew who I was and convinced him that, yes, I did live there, and, no, I wasn't a delinquent.

I stomped to my apartment, opening the door and throwing my stuff on the floor. I called to my parents, to see if they were home. I didn't know if they had to work late or not, I just knew I wanted to talk to someone, anyone. At that point I was prepared to settle for my sister Rebecca, even though we're different as night and day.

I never got an answer.

I walked into the kitchen for a snack and accidentally kicked over a can of gasoline my dad left out for the car, which wasn't an unusual occurrence. Dad always left his tools lying around the apartment, something that always infuriated my mother. In retrospect, I probably should've been paying attention to where I was going. If I had, maybe things would've turned out differently. At the time, i wasnt think about consequences, I just balled my hands into fists. I knew that I'd have to spend hours scrubbing the floor to get rid of the smell, and then get a nine-hour-long lecture from mom and dad. 'We can't afford...blah blah blah...' 'why can't you be more like your sister? Yadda-yadda...'

A spark.

It was tiny, little more than static buildup, but it was enough. The electric shock caught the wooden floor on fire and spread, fueled by the gasoline and the ridiculous amount of wooden objects in our home. The flames danced in front of my eyes, licking at the wallpaper and devouring our furniture. Heat rolled off the fire in waves, pushing me out the door.

I panicked, screaming for my mother and father and racing down the hallway and taking the stairs to get out of the building. I remember tripping about four or five times in the way down, smashing my chin against the steps. A fleeing mother actually stepped on me on the way down in an effort to get her and her baby to safety.

Next thing I know I'm crying out my family's names, burns all over my hands and face, standing outside with the other occupants of the building, not knowing that soon I'd be handcuffed and in the back of a police cruiser.

My name is Quinn Mallory. I was born with black hair and green eyes. I am thirteen years old.

For the past three months, ten days, seven hours, thirteen minutes, and thirty-seven seconds, I have been institutionalized in Arkham Asylum.

And I think someone is planning to kill me.

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><p>First chapter completed! You know, I really should be focusing on a huge project due next month but somehow I can not make myself care. :P<p>

Random (yeah, I'm still doing this:D) Harm narrates his life. Harm talks like Harm is writing a story about Harm's life. JadeDragon220 finds this very odd. Harm frightens her...


	2. Psychotherapy

Lalaalalalalalalaala...read, review, and hope that one day I'll put something in this footnote that's not worthless crap.:D

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><p>A cold line of sweat rolled down my neck as I slammed my tray onto the empty table and scrambled into my seat. Nervously, I glanced back and forth around the cafeteria, making sure that my cell block and I would not be visited by any costumed psychos this morning.<p>

Nope. Just the usual sad procession of over-medicated crazies.

I let out a sigh of relief, digging my plastic spork into the rubbery eggs the bitchy lunch-ladies heaped on my plate. Somehow, they managed to burn half the eggs and undercook the rest. That takes serious talent.

I smiled, despite the fact that I wanted to gag on the disgusting crap on my tray. You see, I love poetry. When I look at things or feel something, lines of poetry immediately jump into my head and frantically dance around on my brain until I write them down.

_Prison Food can really suck_

_I think I might cry_

_The bacon is black, the eggs look like muck_

_And...Oh My God, is that an eye!_

I laughed inwardly, it wasn't one of my best ones. Plus it rhymed, which was unusual for me. Whatever, it didn't matter. It made me feel better. I read somewhere that a guy conducting an experiment got himself put in a mental hospital. When his research was over, the people were so convinced he was crazy that they refused to let him leave. When his girlfriend went looking for him, she found the guy had _actually_ gone looney from being locked up. Needless to say, I didn't want the same to happen to me, so I used poetry to keep myself sane.

If I ever plan on getting out of here, I need to keep my mind healthy. Which isn't easy, not in Arkham. As long as no one finds my hidden notepad and pen I stole from the psychiatrist, I'll be fine. If they do discover it, then I'll be in a world of trouble. Not only will I lose my anchor to sanity, but I'll probably be stuck in a straightjacket for a month. Theft is considered a big no-no in Arkham.

I heard a crash. I sprang to my feet; muscles tensed, ready to bolt. My eyes fell on a woman who had thrown her tray against a wall and was trying to stab a guard with her spork. Relieved, I slid back into my chair and poked my remaining eggs with the edge of my utensil. I was afraid that a Mask had found their way to the cafeteria.

One of the first rules of Arkham is: stay away from the Masks.

'The Masks' is a nickname given to the 'supervilians' of Arkham. Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face, all the heavy hitters. Even though most of them don't wear masks, they qualify. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on your view of things, Arkham isn't co-ed.

That only leaves us with two Masks: Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy.

That may not seem too bad, but that's because you've never met those two. Every time they enter a room, separate or together, they bring a wave of chaos with them. Sure, it's funny when they mess with the guards. But usually, their 'fun' usually ends up affecting me: the most sane psycho in Arkham.

I'm not the only patient that gets I trouble, I'm just the only one who fully understands what's going on. I get punched in the gut, I double over and moan in pain. Most of the others just laugh and skip away down the hall. That, or they go bat-shit crazy on their abuser.

So...yeah, I suppose you could say I'm the favorite.

I glared down at my food, I'd scraped away the most burnt and runny bits of eggs and pushed them away. What was left wasn't very tasty, or filling. I turned my attention to the strips of bacon, which were as black as the pan they were fried in.

Reluctantly, I took a bite. The bacon strips tasted like leather on my tongue, but I forced them down. I should be thankful, the cafeteria rarely works this hard on meals.

I froze, realization slamming into my stomach like a cannonball. I should've known something was up by the guards' tame behavior. A good meal and nice asylum workers always means one of two things:

1) Someone was about to get out of Arkham.

2) It was time for our monthly psychiatric evaluations.

Groaning, I left my empty tray on the table and approached one of the guards, arms crossed.

"Well?" I arched an eyebrow.

He shrugged, grabbing my arm and leading me out of the cafeteria. The creamy-white utilitarian walls seemed to stretch endlessly in front of me. The guard's fingers curled even tighter around my forearm, pushing me along.

Most inmates hate the Shrink, and I'm no different. But I know its better just to get it over with and hope he doesn't assign you more meds. Plus, I don't like being out in the open for any prolonged period of time. It makes me twitchy.

I'm pretty sure someone is out to get me. Little things, like unexplained deadly snakes and spiders finding their way into my room. Lighting fixtures smashing into the ground, nearly flattening me. Crazies wielding weapons made from toothbrushes and razor blades charging me in the hallways. Things that others may brush off as accidents.

I wasn't so sure.

I knew I needed to get the fuck out of Arkham, and fast, if I was going to make it to fourteen. The only way that could happen is if I was declared legally sane by the court, and then shipped off to a juvenile detention center until I'm eighteen. Juvie isn't ideal, but it sure beats an asylum any day. Besides, they wouldn't be able to keep me their forever. I stay at Arkham, I may never get out.

To get an appeal, the asylum's psychiatrist would have to give me the okay before I could go before a court. I suppose I could suck it up and play nice with Doctor Shrink Wrap for a little while just so I can get the hell out of here, but...It's just...not that easy.

Oh sure, Mr. Freeze was declared sane a little while ago. That must mean it's super easy to get a petition, right? _Wrong_. Another rule of Arkham: Intimidation will get you everywhere. The freaky dome Freeze wears over his head may seem a litte dorky, but I guarantee if I saw him peering out at me through that thing I'd probably wet my pants. I'm just a shrimpy thirteen-year-old girl who missed her growth spurt, the only thing running in fear of me are ants.

The guard stopped me in front of a door. He let go of me, shooting me a warning glance before reaching for his keys. I scolwed at him, what did he think I was going to do? All the exits sre blocked off and he's about three times my size. Yeah, I'm going to whip out a shuriken and stab the idiot in the back as soon as he looks away. Irritated, I turned my attention to the door in front of was me. It was silver, with a thick plexiglass window and a nameplate in the center depicting the name of its only occupant:

DR. ANTHONY STRYKER MD, PhD...

_S.O.B..._ I rolled my eyes.

The guard found the right key, pulling the door open and quickly ushering me inside. My legs were on auto-pilot, carrying me across the room to the bench/bed thing that phychiatrists always have in cartoons. I didn't lay down on it, I never did. Instead, I settled down on the bench, cross-legged and hands folded neatly in my lap.

Dr. Stryker, a thin, wiry little man with greasy black hair and beady eyes, smiled at me. It wasn't a warm smile, Stryker's grin was too grotesque and forced to pass as warm. I could see every single on of his yellowed teeth.

I met his gaze, but my mouth stayed an emotionless flat line.

"You may go now, Mr. Reynolds." Stryker's smile didn't waver and he turned to my escort.

Reynolds narrowed his eyes at me, distrust etched all across his face.

"You sure, Doc...?"

"Of course! If I'm to make any progress with Miss. Mallory we need to establish a mutual trust."

I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. _Trust_? I don't trust anybody anymore, especially not a guy that looks every bit as crazy as the people he is supposedly trying to 'cure.' How come I'm the only one who sees Stryker's oh-so obvious instability?

Reynolds shrugged, opening the the door and shooting me one last evil look before slamming the door shut behind him. There was a jangling of keys and the sound of the door being locked, I was going to be stuck here until Stryker sent for a guard to take me back to my room.

Oh, joy.

"Hello, Quinn, how're you doing today?" Stryker said, cocking his head to the left like a dog.

"How about we stick with Miss. Mallory, Doc?" I kept my voice calm and raised my eyebrows at him.

Stryker smile faded, but only slightly.

"Very well, then. Why don't you tell me about what happened between you and that guard the other day?"

I stiffened. About a week ago one of the women in my cell block committed suicide, she hung herself with some plastic tubing she took from an unlocked storage room. It's not like I knew her or anything, but I was still pretty upset about it. She was only twenty-two years old, and I heard that she was about to be released. For a few days, the guards and doctors were really freaked out about it.

Then the jokes started. Cruel, horrible jokes. Isn't that always how it is? No matter how bad something is, people will find something funny about it. She sure liked to hang around. A real swinging individual, that one. All choked up. None of it was funny.

The breaking point happened about five days afte the suicide. A guard grabbed me on the way to lunch, pulling me out of the jumble of people. I don't know why he singled me out, maybe he knew I wasn't really crazy. Maybe he didn't care.

"I know why she did it, ya know. She was sick of the domestic abuse between the voices in her head."

Then the guard threw his head back and laughed and laughed and laughed...

I balled my hands into fists, my whole body shaking with anger.

"It's not funny." I croaked, barely able to speak.

"What?" He knit his eyebrows together in confusion, like his little pea-brain couldn't understand why I wasn't laughing my ass off.

"The suicide. It's not funny." I scowled.

"Yeah, it is. Haven't you hear all the jokes? I know some good ones, did you hear the one about...?"

Next thing I know, I had the guy pressed up against the wall. My fists slammed into his face, breaking the delicate bones. I'll tell you what, he probably didn't find his joke so funny anymore. I had to stand on my tippy-toes to get to him, but that doesn't mean I didn't do serious damage. By the time it was over, both my hands were coated in his blood. The guard's buddies had to me off him and put me in a straightjacket to get me to stop, and whole time I kept screaming "It's not funny! It's not funny! It's...not..._funny_!"

Yeah, not exactly a good move for someone who wants to get out of an asylum. But the guy needed someone to make him shut up, and I guess that someone was me. But hey, it worked out okay for me. Later on, I heard he walked away with a broken eye socket, fractured jaw, and a nice amount of bruises to remember me by.

I never saw him ever again.

"He had it coming." I deadpanned.

"Your...violent tendencies concern me..." Stryker pursed his lips.

"I'm not violent." I assured him, knowing it truly didn't matter what I said. "That was a one-time thing."

"I'm not so sure." he sat down in a chair across from me.

I shrugged. "That's your expert opinion, Doc."

"Since you're so hostile towards _that_ topic..." A sly smile crept onto his face.

"Why don't we follow up with what we discussed last time..."

I squared my shoulders. "Don't go there, man."

"Come on, Quinnie..." His eyes glinted dangerously, his smile was wide and ultra-happy. The smile of a man that should be locked in a padded room for the rest of his life.

"Why'd you murder your family?"

"I didn't!" I screeched, smacking my palms into the bright red leaster of the bench.

This was why all our sessions went south. No matter how many times I promised myself I'd be good and ignore his insensitive, probing comments, I couldn't control myself. As soon as he uttered those words, I freaked the fuck out.

"It was an accident! I didn't even know I had powers!" My hands were gripped so tightly on the bench my knuckles turned white.

Stryker looked smug. "Accident? So you _accidentally_ launched an electric shock at a can of gasoline, _accidentally_ making it explode? My, my, Quinnie, you aren't a very good liar...It's a good think you wear that collar, or you might have an _accident_ right now..."

"No!" my eyes stung. I touched the bulky ring of metal fixed around my neck. The collar rubbed the skin around my throat raw because the doughebag who put it on me made it too loose. It's okay through, it only hurts when someone reminds me I'm wearing a collar.

Thanks a lot, Doc.

"I loved them, and they loved me. I'd never..." I shut my eyes, wishing Stryker would just go away.

"And your sister?" His voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

"Don't even talk about my sister!" My eyes snapped open. "You don't know Rebecca, and you don't know me!"

He pulled a folder out from a filing cabinet beside him. You have to appreciate an organized psychopath.

"You went to a progressive school in New York, correct? Got beat up almost every day. Still, your parents wouldn't let you switch schools. But they took care of your sister, for sure. Went to a fancy private school her whole life..."

"It's not...not like that." I shook my head.

"Mom and Dad...they got laid off from their jobs when I was four, we had to move to a crappy apartment. And when it was time for me to go to kindergarden...they couldn't afford to send two kids. That progressive school was accepting underprivileged kids at the time, they jumped at the chance...I understood! I was okay with it!" I spoke through my teeth.

"Really?" he arched an eyebrow. "At five years old?"

"Shut up!" I covered my ears. "Shut up! Shut up! _Shut up_!"

I kept repeating the words like I was a demented parrot. It had to stop, if I was forced to listen to his voice anymore I was going to lose it. Stryker's chuckle penetrated through my fingers, I was shaking like a leaf. I couldn't tell if it was from anger, fear, or both.

Strong arms wrapped around my trembling form, gently lifting me into thr air and carrying me from the room. Fearing it was Reynolds and he was going to stick me in a padded cell for the rest of the day, I opened one of my eyes, just a crack, to see if I could confirm my fears.

I sighed in relief, letting my body sag in his arms. It was Aaron Cash, one of the only people in Arkham that isn't corrupt or evil. In Arkham, kindness is so rare that when you stumble upon it you find yourself clinging to it like a baby monkey.

He took me back to my room...cell...thing, delicately setting me on my bed. Cash patted my shoulder, smiled, then left me alone. Because he had to, he locked the door behind him. If Cash had his own way, he'd sit in here with me all day. But he had to make sure his coworkers didn't snuff out a bunch of loonies while he wasn't looking. He alone believed me when I said I wasn't insane. Not that it mattered, he wasn't high up enough in the Arkham hierarchy to do anything about it.

Angry and hurt, I rolled off my bed and reached into a slit in the mattress. My stolen notebook and pen, both colored black, were jammed inside. Wiping my tears away with the sleeve of my green scrubs, I started to write:

_The sky is dark_

_The clouds are stirring_

_The last light is fading_

_The night takes over_

_Clouding us from everything _

_Creating an evil slumber_

_No awakening to the night_

_The day is gone forever _

_All alone in an endless sleep_

_No light for hope and comfort_

_The world has won_

_And we have lost_

_No going back_

_To simple life_

_Stuck forever at night_

_I miss the day_

_The hope of light_

Two tears escaped my control, landing on the page as I wrote the last line...

_Why can't the moon show tonight?_

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><p><em>Heeeey, everybody! My BFF Madi wrote the poem at the end. I wrote the one about food :P<em>

_Cash is a dude from the comics. The only Arkham guy I could find who isn't evil. :P_

_Random: okay, during Independence Day Conner gets punched by the Cadmus monster, and the thing's so huge in comparison to Conner it looks like Conner just gets freaking pancaked by a giant fist. I laughed for about fifteen minutes, had to pause the episode just to compose myself. Come on, you guys need to rewatch the episode and then try telling me that shits not funny :D_


	3. Plead Insanity

Heeeelllllloooooo!

There is absolutely nothing important or exciting happening in my life going on at the moment. I have a big project due (again, really should be working on that) almost done with the Hunger Games series, missing YJ, planning a funeral for whichever Young Justice character dies (yeah, the producers already said one of the team members won't survive the first season...I'm freaking depressed! Why would they tell us this? O_O I love them all...so, so much...

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><p><em>Fuck... <em>I bit my lip so hard the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

_Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, **fuck**..._

In Arkham, there's only one thing worse than Stryker's therapy sessions: Recreation. Every day, I tried desperately to avoid it. I volunteered for the crappy jobs no one else wants to do: sweeping the asylum barber's shop, scrubbing out the soup pots in the kitchen, wiping dried blood off the infirmary's floor, ceiling, and walls left behind after a fight between the Masks. Anything to avoid being thrown outside at the mercy of every single psycho in Arkham.

Today, nobody wanted my help. After awhile I'd reduced myself to begging, but that didn't really do anything except take away my last vestige of dignity. I kept looking for an escape route, but guards flanked me on every side. Then there was the other patients to think about, any sign of excitement and they tended to get out of control. Besides, where would I go if I did get away? At the end of the day, I'm still a prisoner of Arkham. Until the day that changes, I have to do what I'm told.

The doors opened, someone roughly shoved me from behind and sent me sprawling head-first into the dirt. Snickering erupted from a couple guards, causing a baloon of anger to swell inside my chest. These people were criminals, and _crazy_ criminals at that. But no one deserves to be treated this way.

I stood, brushing the dust from my scrubs and making a beeline for the very edge of the yard. I learned early that, unlike school, the whole 'head down, mouth shut' routine actually works. Arkham's residents are too caught up in their own little worlds to worry about one runty girl.

Most of them anyway.

I was half-way to my hiding spot when I felt something hook the back of my green shirt, yanking so hard I fell backwards and landed on my butt in the dirt. Assuming it was a guard, I scowled and looked up at my aggressor.

I was met by a tall, lanky figure dressed in the usual Arkham uniform. His face was sickly pale, making his forest-green hair sick out against his skin. His mouth was twisted up into a grotesque smile, his eyes were wild and dangerous.

It was the Joker.

I'd like to say I kept my cool. To tell the truth, I leaped about five feet in the air and screamed like I'd been shot. A hand clamped itself over my mouth, silencing me. I was pulled to the ground and held down until I stopped struggling. I strained my neck to the left, looking for the Joker's accomplice. Harley Quinn smiled back at me.

_Oh, God, I'm going to die..._ I squeezed my eyes shut.

Harley let go of me, so I was able to roll over and look directly at the Joker. Somehow, it made me feel better knowing where he was. I'm not delusional, I know if Joker really wanted me dead he would've killed me already.

Nervous, my eyes flickered back and forth between the two psychos. I shifted uncomfortably on the ground, wishing I could be somewhere else. Why had I been singled out? What is it about me that makes people, specifically bullies, gravitate towards me?

"What?" I croaked, swallowing hard to keep my voice from cracking. "What do you want?"

For some reason, Joker found that hilarious. His laughs send tremors up my spine, every inch of my skin crawled. Harley leaned against her boyfriend, giggling right along with him. Her laughs were decidedly less creepy, more bubbly than chilling, but it still creeped me out.

_"What do you want?"_ He mimicked.

I kept my expression blank, but inwardly I was fuming. I hated being insulted, especially the Joker. Honesty, I'm impressed I managed to speak at all. There are girls my age I know that would wet their pants and start crying if they were in my position.

"What'd you do, kid?" He asked when his laugher subsided.

At first, I didn't know what he meant.

Playing it safe, I shrugged.

"You don't know?" Joker grinned. "Guess Ivy was wrong, you _are_ crazy...Almost as crazy as me!"

With that, he took off in the other direction, laughing hysterically and waving around a spork he smuggled out of the cafeteria. Harley followed at his heels, giggling like a schoolgirl. I shivered, looking around for the guards. All the men assigned to watch us were wrestling Joker, trying to take away his 'weapon.'

I scoffed. They saw Joker pull out a harmless piece of plastic, but they didn't see him assault me? Typical.

I made my way to the corner of the yard, kneeling behind one of Ivy's rose bushes. She never saw me when she came over to tend her plants. At least, if she did see me she didn't say anything. Maybe she liked an audience, and I couldn't blame her. The way the plants went crazy when she was around them was ridiculously cool.

Technically, no ones allowed to use their powers. But the Masks have some kind of deal with the asylum, I'm pretty sure even the warden is corrupt. If I has a reputation, besides the whole arson/murder thing, I'd be able to get what I wanted too.

I touched the collar around my neck. What I wanted most was to be free. But even the Masks couldn't swing that, and their was no way I'd have the guts to even try. I shifted, wincing as the cold metal of my collar dug into the sore, bruised skin around my neck.

I wanted my collar off. Badly. I guess that's a more reasonable dream, but it's still way out of my reach.

Beside me, the plants rustled. I smiled a little, positioning my body so I could watch the show. Poison Ivy grabbed one of the branches, drawing it close to her face. A small green bud on the twig awakened at her presence, swelling like a balloon. Once it was large enough, the leaves parted and a beautiful blood-red blossom made its appearance. Ivy smiled, lovingly running her hands over the petals.

_Amazing..._ I thought. _She's evil, and kinda crazy...But that was freaking amazing..._

Ivy lingered a few more moments, then went off to make her rounds at her other gardens scattered around the yard. I let out a sigh, relieved she hadn't seen me. I stood, walking around the row of plants to the newly-blossomed flower.

I looked around quickly, assuiring myself I was alone. I reached out, closing my fingers around the base of the stem. In one quick motion, I plucked the flower off the bush and cradled it with two hands. I fingered the blossum for a moment, running the velvety flower over my cheek. I smiled, pressing my flower to my nose and breathing in the scent. Incredible. Ivy's flowers were different than any others, but not bad different. They smelled like vanilla and chocolate, freshly-mowed grass, rainy days, and about a billion other smells that cannot conceivably be coming from a flower. Dazed, I ran over my chin.

A hand came down on my shoulder, spinning me around. I bit my tongue to stifle a scream. The woman's skin was tinted green, her long auburn hair cascaded down her back. I cringed, Poison Ivy had caught me in the act. Red-handed, I stared at her without a word. Last week a guard made the mistake of trampling one of her hydrangeas. Let me tell you, the results were not pretty. That had been an accident, I wondered what she'd do to someone who _purposely_ touched her 'babies.'

I swallowed, hard. I guess I was about to find out.

Strangely, Ivy didn't even seem mad. The edges of her mouth were quirked upwards in something like a smile. Her hand left my shoulder, hovering dangerously close to my face. Her hand unexpectedly closed around my fingers, which still had a death grip on Ivy's rose. I flinched, back when I used to go to school, kids always told me that Ivy's skin was poisonous and could kill you if you made contact with it. I was also told that Ivy is a mutant robot created in a secret government lab, but the kid who told me that spent all his free time staring at rocks so I'm willing to bet his information is a tad unreliable.

Ivy's skin didn't burn on contact. My heart continued to beat normally, albeit insanely fast. Maybe she found me funny, a tiny girl daring to touch the great Poison Ivy's plants and decided to hold back the toxins flowing to her skin. Maybe she thought I just wasn't worth the trouble.

Ivy took the rose from my hand, smiling brightly at the little flower. She addressed me with what I thought was a mixture between intrigue and amusement, although I couldn't be sure. She reached out, brushing the hair away from my right ear. Ivy smiled again, tucking the flower behind my ear. The rose's broken stem woke up, growing rapidly and gently threading it's tendrils through my black tresses.

"There." She purred. "Lovely."

Again, I said nothing. I decided that there was something about me that people like to mess with, I seem to constantly attract bullies, phychos, and everything in between. I shrugged again, trying to make it come across as respectful as possible. I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, there was no way Ivy would let me get away with this unscathed._ No way._

"I'm not going to hurt you," Ivy rolled her eyes.

"So you can wipe that deer-caught-in-headlights look off your face before I _smack_ it off."

_But you're not going to hurt me, right? _I grumbled in my head.

"Look, if you're mad about the flowers..." I began.

"I could care less. Why would I want to prevent someone from admiring one of my babies?" She asked.

_I dunno, Ivy. Kicks? _

I shrugged, feeling the rose wiggling in my hair.

Ivy chuckled. "She likes you."

I didn't think roses had a specific sex, but I wasn't about to point this out.

"Um...thanks." I shifted awkwardly on my feet. "Do you...want something?"

Ivy's eyes glinted with amusement. "What? Just because I didn't kill you, you think I want something from you?"

I didn't miss a beat. "That seems to be the way things work around here."

She laughed at that.

"Right you are, Sparky."

I scowled at the nickname. "_Sparky_?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Read your file, kid. Electrokinetic. Highly unstable."

I blinked, intrigued. I didn't know there was a name for people like me, but I kind of liked it. Electrokinetic. Sounds way better than 'that psycho kid who set her apartment building on fire, killing her family in the process.'

"It also said you're a dangerous psychopath..." She shook her head. "Ridiculous. You're only _thirteen_."

"Damn, you know you're about the only person in the world who hasn't jumped on the 'Quinn Mallory is a nutjob' bandwagon?" I smiled.

The words were light, like her sentiment meant nothing. Inside my head, however, I was doing cartwheels and setting off fireworks. _She knows I'm not insane! She believes me!_ I didn't even care that it was Poison Ivy, I was so happy. It was a relief, to have someone look at me and know I'm not insane. I felt like I could run a marathon.

"Killed your family, huh?" She grinned.

"Yes..." I admitted, unnerved by her smile. "But it was an accident."

"Sure..." She nodded. "Always is."

My heart plummeted into my socks, but I nodded. Might as well take any support I can get, even if it's for the wrong reasons. When you're someone in my situation, you find yourself willing to take whatever you can get.

"Speaking of accidents...you seem to have a lot of them..." She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah..." I shifted on my feet, thinking about all the times I nearly fell down a flight of stairs, or got impaled by a flying knife before the thrower was tackled to the ground.

"Just between you and me..." I lowered my voice, glancing quickly over my shoulder.

"I think someone is trying to kill me..."

"I know someone is." She replied briskly, not even trying to keep her voice down.

"Those instances where you were nearly killed? They are too coordinated, too frequent...It's just not possible to pass them off as mere coincidences."

"Thank you!" I threw my hands in the air. "Finally, someone intelligent!"

Ivy smiled, and I made myself a mental note. When it comes to Poison Ivy, flattery will get you everywhere.

"Listen..." Her voice dropped, making me lean forward in order to hear her.

"You're not ready yet, I can tell. But soon you'll be given a golden opportunity..."

She gripped my shoulder, squeezing so hard it hurt. "Don't let it slip by..."

She turned, disappearing in the midst of crazies. What had she meant by that?

I got my answer about thirty seconds later.

The side of the asylum exploded, revealing a grinning Joker and Harley when the smoke cleared. They were armed with huge, cartoonish, guns made of what appeared to be plastic. Regardless, I instantly went into survival mode. Never underestimate those clowns, under _any_ circumstances.

A trio of dim-witted guards charged the pair. Harley pulled the trigger of her gun, releasing a fine mist into the air. The guards froze, confusion passing briefly over their faces before they started laughing maniacally and falling into the dirt. They laughed a few moments longer, gasped, then lay still. The men's eyes were stretched open, clearly dead.

I gasped, covering my nose and mouth with the front of my shirt. Was this the golden opportunity? What was I supposed to do? All hell broke loose. Psychos ran back and forth, trying to avoid the gas. Other Masks joined the party: Clayface, Black Mask, the Riddler, every crazy that parents warn their children about was now running loose in the yard.

Not thinking, I pressed myself against the fence behind me. I jumped, heartbeat accelerating to a dangerously high rate before I realized that I hadn't been turned into barbecue. Hesitantly, I pressed my hands against the fence. It wasn't on. Even with the collar on, I learned that I could sense electrical currents. Joker and Harley must've turned it off.

I examined the fence again, there was a narrow opening between the dense and the ground a few feet away from where I stood. It would've been impossible to get through if the fence has been on, and as it was I'd probably turn my back to ribbons, but...

A golden opportunity... I thought.

I stiffened.

Don't let it slip by...

I crouched by the opening, quickly measuring it with my hands. I'd fit, but just barely. Something touched my neck and I tensed, ready to swing. Luckily I stopped before my fist connected with my assailant's face.

My new best friend, Poison Ivy.

She reached out, grabbing my collar. I sat still while she removed a key from her pocket and inserted it into the notch in the center of my collar. With a twist and a yank, the collar clattered to the dirt at my feet.

I caught my breath, touching the skin where my collar used to be. I smiled, I guess I hadn't realized how heavy that thing was until it was suddenly removed. I started laughing, shooting Ivy a grateful look. I started to thank her, but she cut me off.

"Look me up, when you're ready."

I nodded, lying through my teeth. I was grateful to Ivy, but I wasn't about to trust her. Lately, I've been doing some really stupid things. Like not running when Ivy first showed her face, or touching her precious flowers in the first place, going home angry and causing my apartment to go up in smoke. Point is, I know I've been stupid. But I'm not _that_ stupid.

Ivy moved on, leaving me alone with the fence.

I scooted closer to the hole, making it bigger with my hands. I grinned, this was happening. I was escaping. I rolled onto my stomach, using my arms and legs to propel myself under the fence. The fencing scraped my back, causing me to grit my teeth in pain.

I was about half-way through when I heard the first gunshot.

The sound echoed through the air, quickly followed by shrieks of fear and surprise. Frantic now, I pulled and kicked like a madman. Desperate to get to the other side, and no long caring about the pain, I gave one last desperate kick and was out.

I turned onto my back, just in time to see a bullet whizz over my head. I looked back into the yard, eyes matching onto a man in the center of the chaos. He wore a long trenchcoat, his face was obscured by a dumb-looking detective style hat.

I would've laughed at him, if it wasn't for the gun he held in his right hand.

Panicking, I scrambled to my feet and took off in the other direction. Past the yard's fence lay a row of guard towers and a huge gate, both of which now stood open and unguarded. The man fired two more shots, both of which miraculously missed me somehow.

I ran as fast as I could, static electricity making my hair stand straight up as my powers came flooding back. Arkham was located on the outskirts of Gotham, but thankfully it wasn't too far. Soon the sign announcing that I was now entering Gotham City appeared. I nearly cried, Gotham City seemed like a godsend after my time at Arkham.

The adrenalin rush was slowly ebbing away, forcing me to slow down. I veered into a nearby alley, my subconscious telling me to avoid the traffic. Although, considering it was Gotham, I probably wouldn't be very safe there either. I think we can all agree I wasn't thinking rationally at the moment, I found myself wondering of I may be crazy after all.

Once I was confident I got far enough away, I sank to the ground in exhaustion and rested my head on my knees. It was then the full reality of my situation hit me: I am alone. My family is gone. I have no food, money, or shelter. I'm wearing the classic uniform of an Arkham prisoner and the back of my shirt is soaked in blood, a wound that'll probably get infected if I don't get it treated. I'm trapped in a city with one of the highest crime rates in the country, where people will kill you as soon as look at you. Oh, and did I mention that everyone thinks I'm a psychopathic murderer, and will most likely devote all their resources into hunting me down?

I'm surprised I didn't lose my mind for real right there in the alleyway.

Dejected, I ran my hand through my sweaty, matted ebony-colored hair. My palm connected with something soft, knocking it into my lap. It was colored bright red, and still as beautiful as I remember it. The edges were a little wrinkled, but it was otherwise intact.

Ivy's flower.

_Look me up, when you're ready._

What does 'ready' mean? I'm certainly desperate enough, but I promised myself I wouldn't get mixed up with her. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming. Do I have a choice? I can't survive on my own. But Ivy...she'd turn me into a villain, I'm sure of it. The Justice League would become my enemies.

The Justice League...Oh, God... I wrapped my arms around my knees and hugged them to my chest. For one, the League is made up of meta-humans and people with advanced gadgetry and years of combat training, what hope did I have against them? Plus, I always looked up to them. On Halloween while other little girls dressed up like princesses or mermaids, I dressed up like a superhero. I would race to the TV just to watch heroes fight off bad guys on the news, regardless of who happened to be watching it at the time or what time the program was on. I bought comic books based on the League's exploits. I was even part of their online fanclub for heaven's sake!

Yeah, I'm a bit of a dork, but hearing about the League's heroic deeds made everything not hurt as much. No matter how bad things were, I knew I could run off into my room and lose myself in a world of masks, capes, and spandex of varying colors. They let me know that there is such a thing as decent people in the world, even when it seemed like everyone outside my apartment were nothing but a buch of pricks.

The flower lay limp in my hand, Ivy's offer still ringing in my ears.

For once in my life, I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do.

* * *

><p>Young Justice is so close...but so far away...<p>

Random: you can totally tell I'm running out of material...

Okay, so let me introduce you all to something I've recently discovered: Cartoon Logic. They use it all the time in Young Justice, what with the superpowers and the fact that no matter how much the team gets smacked around they all emerge intact, aside from torn clothes and the occasional broken bone (Wally) the fact that Artemis doesn't run out of arrows until the point she actually says she's running out of arrows. More subtle moments happen during moments like Terrors, why didn't Megan just turn invisible and hide out in Senior's cell to learn about the plot? Wally and Robin hang out, Wally knows Rob's secret ID. Why doesn't Wally see Artemis at Rob's school, learn her last name, and just fucking Google that shit?


	4. Fugitive

I. Want. Young. Justice.

Hera and Zeus Academy are just places I made up in my head.

Alice is basically every well-meaning ditz I've ever meant. I sure everyone's met an Alice at some point in their lives.

* * *

><p>My first priority had to be new clothes.<p>

I knew I wouldn't last long without food or shelter, but those things would have to wait. I could always resort to begging when I got hungry, and thankfully Gotham had a lot of condemned buildings I could hole myself up in..

But if someone sees me dressed like this, they'll bring the cops down on me a heartbeat.

_I'm just a kid... _I thought, racing through the alleyways.

_How am I going to survive on my own? _

I shook off my doubts, I needed to try. If I'm ever dragged back to Arkham, which is becoming more and more likely with every passing moment, I refuse to go back knowing that I just gave up. What would mom and dad say? Or Rebecca for that matter?

Thinking back to my transport to Arkham, I tried to paint a mental picture of Gotham City. I made a quick estimate of my position, using street signs for reference, and made my way to a Goodwill store. People dropped off clothes at the back all the time, it couldn't be that hard to grab a bag and take off before anyone saw me.

But like everything else in my life it ended up being much more difficult than I originally thought.

I settled myself behind a row of trashcans and watched a minivan pull up, drop of a few bags, then pull away. I was about to rush over to the backstop when something stopped me. I couldn't risk this is broad daylight. Besides...I looked up at the building. Cameras. I completely forgot about the cameras.

Leaning against one of the sun-warmed cans, I started to form a plan. If I grab the clothes, the camera will see me the cops will know where I am. If I don't, I'll be identified and arrested for sure. A thought started crawling its way into my head, but I pushed it away. I'm not _that_ desperate.

_Yes, __you are..._

Sighing, I pulled a trashcan closer to me and pushed it over with my foot. Garbage spilled out and pooled around my legs. The smell was overpowering, I thought I was going to puke. I took a deep breath, pinched my nose, and started rooting through the can. I used bits of leftover food and cigarette ash to stain my mint green scrubs, making it unrecognizable. I found an old baseball hat and stuck it over my black hair, pulling it low on my face. Now I looked like a street urchin, one of thousands that occupy Gotham. No one will think twice about my theft now. Any bystander would just pass it off as yet another petty crime. The Goodwill people probably won't even care enough to check the tapes, in Gotham you're lucky to get through the day without being mugged.

I waited till dusk, not an altogether smart move considering Gotham's crime rate increases tenfold when it gets dark. Every second made me more anxious, I kept telling myself I was just waiting for the right moment. I could play all the mind games I wanted, but I knew that in the end I was nothing but a big coward. When I finally worked up the courage, a car was just pulling out of the parking lot. It left behind three black garbage bags, bursting with old unwanted clothes. I made my move. Running as fast as I could, again regretting all the times I hid behind the bleachers instead of running during gym, I grabbed one of the bags. Almost immediately, Someone shouted at me to stop. I ignored them completely and kept going.

My lungs started to burn after awhile, so I slowed and took refuge behind an old warehouse. I ripped open the bag with my hands, spilling the stolen clothes onto the pavement. I rifled through the bag, disappointed. A few pairs of socks, some tang tops, sandals and the odd bathing suit. Nothing that I could use in the wintertime.

My hand hit something that felt like a sweater. Excited, I grabbed it and pulled it into the dying sunlight. It was a girl's school uniform, and I recognized the insignia: Hera Academy, a boarding school for rich brats in Gotham. An old boyfriend of my sister's went to the Academy's brother school, the aptly named Zeus Academy. According to him, students slept over in each others rooms all the time.

I could almost picture the lightbulb appearing over my head.

Finding the uniform's matching skirt, I shrugged off my dirty scrubs and quickly changed. I kept the hat, out of necessity. Being in Arkham taught me not to take chances. Combing out my dirty hair and well as I could with my fingers, and stuffing Ivy's rose into the pocket of my sweater, I held up my head and bravely walked into the middle of Gotham.

Acting like a snobby rich kid, I swayed my hips and kept my nose in the air like the stuck-up girls at my old schools always had. Inside though, past my new schoolgirl persona, I was a paranoid mess. I was sure everyone was looking at me, it took every ounce of willpower I had to keep myself from screaming.

I had to stop four times to ask for directions, claiming to be a school girl who got ditched by her friends. Each encounter set my nerves on end, but I managed to get myself to the Academy without collapsing to the ground and curling into a fetal position. Hera Academy was a series of tall buildings, each surrounded by a huge black fence that was locked at night. Even though I knew the fence was meant for protection, it made me nervous. That fence brought up too many bad memories for my liking.

I didnt move. Now that I was actually at the Academy my courage dissipating like water in sand.

After a few moments of standing there, blinking dumbly up at the building, I noticed someone stating at me. A Zeus boy, with thick glasses and bad skin. Judging by the way he was staring at me, I'm willing to guess the perverted little freak walked over to Hera just to watch girls going in and out the building.

Ignoring him, I turned back to the Academy. I had to figure out a way to get inside. I jumped when I felt hot breath running down my neck. The Zeus kid was standing _right next_ to me now, his creepy little pig eyes peering out at me.

"Whatcha doing?" he rasped.

"Um..." I backed away from him.

"Oh, _there_ you are Kimmie! Where have you _been_?" A Hera girl, bleach-blonde hair tied into pigtails, popped out in front of me.

It took me a second, but I worked out that I was supposed to be Kimmie. I shot her a questioning look, she just winked at me and gestured to the creepy boy with her head. I smiled, the girl was helping me out. I couldn't help finding the humor in that, if only she knew...

The girl linked arms with me, guiding me into the Academy building and away from the freaky kid. Once we were safely inside, I stopped and thanked the girl for the assist. She grinned, flipping her hair out of her eyes with one manicured hand.

"No problem." she beamed. "I'm Alice, by the way. You?"

"Elizabeth." I responded, shooting her a smile of my own

I wasn't sure what surprised me more, that I was able to speak at all or the fact that the lie had tumbled from my mouth so easily.

"Marvin sure is creepy, huh?" she giggled.

"Totally." I nodded in agreement, feigning a shudder.

"Hey..." I said after a moment's pause, shuffling me feet back and forth.

"Feel free to say no, but me and my roommates got into an argument and..."

"That why your uniform is so dirty?" Alice blinked in curiosity.

"Yeah..." acting like a self-conscious teenager, I brushed off my uniform.

"You need a place to crash tonight, right? No big..." she giggled again.

"Yeah, do you mind? Cause if you do I can always..."

Without warning, Alice grabbed my arm and started pulling me down the halls.

"Me and my roomates argue aaaaalllll the time. I swear, sometimes it's like 'oh shut up, I can't stand you.' Just like having a bunch of annoying sisters. Do you have a sister? I do. Her name is Martha. Martha's only eight but she's sooooo annoying. She likes oranges. I swear the girl is like...obsessed or something."

I got lost somewhere after she stating talking about sisters, but I don't think the conversation was all that important. Alice deposited me in her room, telling me that she and her roommates wouldn't be back that night because they're all having sleepovers in other girls' rooms or something along those lines, then disappeared.

As soon as Alice left, I flopped down on one of the beds and tried to collect my thoughts. First things first, I needed a shower. I'd been running around and putting myself through insane stress all day. That, along with my garbage bath...Well, I probably don't smell too pretty at the moment. Shucking off the uniform, I stumbled back into the ridiculously exquisite bathroom. Everything was expensive and needlessly complex, it took me about five minutes to figure out how the shower worked. I found a bottle of strawberry shampoo at the bottom of the shower and used it to wash the dirt and sweat out of my hair. It smelled so good compared to the thick greenish shampoo they give us at the asylum I ended up washing my hair three times with the stuff.

I stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed and clean. I grabbed a fluffy pink towel from a rack beside the sink and dried off. Feeling reckless, I started going through the Hera girls' belongings. My brain had switched back into survival mode. Ditzy Alice was now a liability, she could identify me if the police went to her. I had to change my appearance again, like a chameleon changing its skin to match its background.

I found a backpack in one of the wardrobes. It was filled with makeup and jewelry, probably a beauty emergency kit for the rich girls. I emptied it, shoving the contents into an open dresser. Hopefully the girls wouldn't notice until I was long gone.

Then I started to steal.

I didnt even really think about it, I just grabbed everything that I thought I may need: underwear, soap, long-sleeved shirts, sweaters, blue jeans, sneakers, basically everything that wasn't a stupid girly beauty product or too heavy to lug around. Although I did grab some makeup and a couple combs, you never know what you may need as a fugitive.

Fugitive. That's what I am now, I guess. On the run from the police.

I found an envelope full of cash, it was labeled 'Mackenzie's B-Day present money.' I didn't care in the slightest who Mackenzie was or that now she was going to have a crappy B-Day because of me. The money went into one of the outer flaps of the backpack.

And then my searches uncovered a bottle of blonde hair dye.

I stared at the bottle, contemplating. The cops would be looking for Quinn Mallory: black haired, skinny, thirteen-year-old Quinn Mallory. In order to survive, I thought, I had to become someone else. I told Alice my name was Elizabeth, because it was safe to be Elizabeth.

It wasn't safe to be Quinn Mallory.

With a regretful sigh, I carried the dye into the bathroom and started reinventing myself. Well over an hour later, I sat on one of the beds and munched on snacks taken from Alice's mini-fridge and tiny cupboard. My hair was now an unnatural shade of gold, glinted like fake sunshine in the light of the tablelamps. I was wearing fluffy pink rich kid pajamas, I had the backpack full of stolen supplies hidden under my bed. All the food I couldn't keep in a backpack for long periods of time was now disappearing down my throat: ice cream, chocolate bars, hamburgers smuggled from McDonald's. Everything tasted magnificent. After eating nothing but prison food for months, Alice's snacks seemed like a feast.

I felt a lot like the Grinch, you know. I came in dressed up in a hastily put together costume and stole things from innocent people, rooting through their junk and taking their things and emptying their fridges without the slightest hint of regret. Only difference is I have no intention of returning anything, and I'm slightly less green.

I wiped my mouth on my shirt, yawning sleepily and covering myself with the goose-down blanket and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When I woke up I had no idea where I was, then it hit me. The escape, the Academy...I massaged my scalp...The _hair._

I looked around, realizing that Alice and her annoying-sister-roommates had been there. Obviously no one had noticed my thefts, or I would be facing the wrath of some seriously tweaking rich girls right now. You know what's sad? I didn't even feel bad about stealing. The only thing I felt was relief. God, I suck.

I stretched my body, working the knots out of my sore muscles. I looked at a clock mounted on the far wall, 11:30, all the girls must be going to lunch now, conciderering it's a Saturday and they wouldn't have classes to go to instead. I changed into jeans and a sweater, thinking I'd fit in well among the citizens of Gotham this way. After another moments thought, I pulled on an extra sweater and pulled on a pair of sweats over my jeans. About a year ago, I saw a TV show that said one of the best disguises is fat, it can drastically alter every part of your body so that you become nearly unrecognizable. The same goes for losing weight, but I don't have that kind of time.

I took a deep breath, slung the backpack over my back, and excited the room. Girls were rushing around like crazy, carrying around little lunch bags or wads of cash. I was right. Lunch Time. Perfect, now I could slip away and no one would notice.

As I walked down the halls, towards the exit, I was bumped into by none other than my spazzy new friend Alice. I opened my mouth to say something, like why I wasn't in uniform or why I was blonde now, or why I'd suddenly gained weight, but she never gave me the chance.

"Ohhhhmigod! The police are here! They're looking for that crazy kid that escaped Arkham yesterday! Ohhhhhhhhmiiiiiiiiigoooooood!" She bounced up and down like a demented bunny rabbit.

_Crap.._.I bit my tongue. _Gotham's finest sure do work fast..._

"Alice," I said. If I was right about my new look, than I wouldn't have to worry too much about the police.

"Alice, do you know who I am?"

Alice's little face took on a befuddled expression. She eyed me up and down, raking me with her gaze.

"Lab partner?" she guessed.

I actually laughed, patting her on the shoulder.

"Yeah, Alice. Lab partner." I nodded, continuing on down the hall.

I passed a cop, but he gave me nothing more than a brief glance. Clearly a blonde, chubby, girl with a backpack didn't make a very big blip on his radar. Caught somewhere between terror and relief, I pushed open the massive double doors and made my way down the steps.

Creepy Marvin was there again, but this time I rushed last him before he could say anything to me.

_Okay, Quinn..._. I said, strolling down the sidewalk.

_ It's day two of your unexpected release from Arkham, what are you going to do...?_

I had no idea.

Ivy's flower, which I had stuck into my backpack for transport, seemed to grow heavy as I contemplated the idea. I wasn't stupid, I knew Ivy was only going to use me for my powers. But at least she'd freaking _feed_ me and keep a roof over my head.

But even if I wanted to join her, which I _don't_, I wouldn't even know where to find her.

I looked to my right, two guys were standing by a thrift store and appeared to shaking hands. Being a New Yorker, I knew that they were really doing a drug exchange. When the men parted and went their seperate ways I knew that one of them had just pocketed some cash, and the other some marijuana or whatever the dealer happened to have on him.

Okay, I think my next objective should be getting the hell out of Gotham. This freaking place is dangerous. Plus, the cops are most likely going to scour the areas nearest Arkham before they move on to other cities. If I can avoid the cops long enough, they may call off the search for me and give up. Escapees can outmaneuver the cops and reintegrate themselves into society. You never hear about it, but it happens.

And maybe hiding out in the hometown of the Dark Knight isn't the healthiest thing for a fugitive meta-human.

Fugitive meta-human. Electrokinetic. Elizabeth. Sparky. God, I'm getting a lot of new titles lately. None of them really feel like me. I'm still Quinn Mallory, no matter what I look like or where I'm at. Unfortunately, If I'm too pull this off I'm never going to be able to speak my name aloud ever again.

Am I really prepared to give up my whole life?

I set my jaw. I don't really have much of a choice, do I?

I found a bus stop, easy enough is a city like Gotham, and chose a seat in the very back of the bus. I was already forming alibis in my head: I'm going to visit my grandmother, my aunt is sick, I'm going to visit my best friend who moved away last year, and a million other stories I was prepared to give to probing adults.

We drove for about forty-five minutes when the bus suddenly screeched to a stop, throwing me against the seat in front of me. A few outraged shouts arose from the other passengers. Playing it low-key, I poked my head up to see what was going on. The bus driver sighed in frustration, turning towards us and gesturing to the road.

"League Road Block." he shook his head. "Probably looking for the escaped Arkham crazies..."

Oh.

My.

_God_.

* * *

><p>CLIFFHANGER! Muahahahahaahhahahah!<p>

Random: dear lord I need a new YJ and fast.

If you choked Megan what color would she turn? Blue? Or some other color? Purple? Orange? O_o


	5. Heroes and Villains

Blaaaaaaah! :D pointless, pointless, pointless, random, random.

Read and review! :D

* * *

><p>I'm. <em>so. <em>screwed.

The other passengers sighed, irritably settling into their seats. My hands clutched the edge of my seat cushion so hard my knuckles turned white, my heart started doing calisthenics inside my chest. I never thought about the possibility of the League checking out everybody going in and out of Gotham.

_Stupid, stupid, **stupid**... _I groaned, burying my face in the crook of my arm.

My first thought was to go quietly, explain everything to the League and beg them to give me a trial. Maybe if I actually went before a court, they'd find me innocent. Or at least _sane_. Maybe they'll convict me of involuntary manslaughter, it was an accident after all. Maybe if I'm really lucky they'll drop the charges completely, the law is different for meta-humans. I couldn't control that electric shock any more than I can control the beating of my heart. Maybe...

My eyes snapped open. _No. _ I explained all that to the police when I was arrested the first time. They didn't believe me then, and they won't believe me now. I'm alone in this, I can't trust anybody. _Especially_ not the heroes.

I briefly thought about a creating a distraction, just like they do in the movies. After a quick digging through the backpack, my roaming hand closed around a watch and brought it up to the light. Annoyed with myself, I shook my head and strapped it on my right wrist. What's that going to do? Am I planning on reflecting sunlight into the heroes' eyes? God, I'm pathetic.

Realizing my best option was to catch them by surprise, I backed up, hand resting on the door handle. The bus suddenly lurched, giving me all the incentive needed to push the door open and start sprinting down the street. I ignored the wailing of alarms and angry shouts of the other passengers.

Deep down I knew it was hopeless, but my body and mind were focused on only one thing: getting away from the bus. Something whizzed by my head, imbedding itself into a nearby Toyota. It looked like a batarang, but something seemed off about it.

Without breaking stride, I turned, easily spotting my pursuer. It was a boy, with a shock of ebony-colored hair and a brightly colored costume: Robin, the Boy Wonder. He sat perched on the top of an SUV, expression tore between annoyance and amusement. His domino mask shifted as he narrowed his eyes at me, clearly miffed about missing such as easy target. With a wave of his cape and a quick flick of the wrist another batarang, or birdarang, came sailing towards me.

On a whim I lifted my hand, the right one, and felt a current of electric energy run down my arm. The batarang paused in mid-air, changed directions, and flew to the watch where it then clung to my forearm. The two pieces of metal were firmly attached, held in place by the electric current emanating from my skin

I'm not sure who was more surprised: Robin, or me.

The bird boy shook off his shock quicker than I did, through. He leaped off his perch, barreling down the street after me. On normal circumstances he'd probably catch me in a second, but you'd be surprised what fear can make you do. Or maybe he was just toying with me.

I veered into an alley, peeling the batarang off my wrist and trying to figure out what the heck my body just did. Thinking back to my science classes at school I came to the conclusion I magnetized by accidently releasing an electric current.

If I wasn't so scared I'd probably feel like a major badass right now.

I threw the batarang at Robin, more to distract him that to actually harm him. A fact that was easily seen when the boy effortlessly sidestepped the flying projectile. I bit my tongue, reaching a ladder and frantically gripped the bottom rung.

"Stop!" Robin ordered.

Fat chance, bird boy.

I climbed the latter, occasionally missing a rung and almost falling. I scrambled onto the roof, pulling myself upright and dusting the filth off my clothes. I looked around, heart sinking into my sneakers. I'd trapped myself, there was no way out. Robin materialized beside me, anger passing over his usual stoic expression as he tried to grab a hold of my arm. I leaped away from him, opening my mouth to deliver a warning.

Too late.

Electricity jumped from me to Robin as soon as his gloved hand made contact with my skin, running up his arm and no doubt causing immense pain. He released me, letting out a sharp yelp and nursing his injured limp. I started to say something, to offer an apology of some kind when the boy's head unexpectedly snapped back up and made the words die in my throat. His eyes focused in on me, and even though they were covered by his mask I knew they were blazing with anger.

The Boy Wonder was mad. Really, _really_ mad.

Whoops.

To my credit, I realized that _now_ would be a good time to panic.

I turned to bolt, but got my legs tangled in something instead. I tripped, falling flat on my face. It was as thin and transparent as fishing lure, but more durable than wire. Quality stuff. I attempted to stick out my arms to catch myself, but the line wrapped around my forearms and pinioned my arms to my sides. Something cold and metallic dug into my calves and shoulderblades, digging deep into my flesh. Warm blood trickled from the wounds, adding to the list of many injuries I'd sustained since my family died.

I wiggled awkwardly on my stomach, causing the metal birdarangs to bite deeper into my skin. Robin grabbed the back of my shirt and lifted me like I was a kitten. He plopped me down onto a sitting position on my knees, relieving some of the pressure on the birdarangs.

"Quinn Adena Mallory?" He asked, like he was conducting a survey or something.

I sighed, knowing for sure that it was game over. My costume was good enough to fool Alice and that cop, but clearly my master disguising skills didn't hold a candle to the Dark Knight's training. I made eye contact with Robin, emerald green facing white lens. There was something about Robin's expression that made me think that this meant more to Robin than just a simple criminal apprehension. Almost like it was personal.

"That's me." I admitted, giving him a little smile.

No response, cold stares.

"Nice hair." He said at last, projecting a hologram above his wrist and turning away from me.

"Yeah...You gotta love my name, Mallory literally means unfortunate or unlucky. Adena means 'little fire' which seems like some kind of sick joke to me."

I knew I was rambling, but I wanted Robin to look at me. To tell me why he was so angry. He must've done thing type of thing hundreds of time before, right? You'd think that criminal scum didn't bother him anymore. I didn't think the bird boy was even listening to me until he opened his mouth to speak, scaring the crap out of me in the process.

"Oh, yeah? What does Quinn mean?"

"Intelligant." I answered, excited that I was making some headway with the stone-cold Boy Wonder.

For some reason, this struck him as funny. I couldn't help a smile from spreading over my face. Every teenage girl I know is in love with Robin, they all see him as the living embodiment of masculinity and hotness. I wonder what they'd say if they knew he giggled like an eight-year-old.

"What're you laughing at?" Robin stopped laughing, remembering whatever grudge he has against me.

"Same thing you are." I answered cooly.

That seemed to rattle Robin, at least briefly. Maybe he thought I'd crumble under his gaze like every young girl in the world, or at least stop talking out of fear. I was nervous, but Robin is...Robin. It's not like he's the goddamn Batman. He's just a kid.

"Why don't we talk about your escape from Arkham, shall we?" He snapped back into World's Greatest Detective-in-training mode.

"Let's not and tell everyone we did." I pouted.

"How long were you planning the escape?" He continued, pretending like he didn't hear me.

I couldn't help it, I laughed. I'm not a criminal mastermind, I couldn't even swipe a pencil from my teacher's desk back at school without getting caught or squealed on, there's no way I could pull off something like that. For Robin to suggest otherwise was ridiculous, but he looked so _serious_.

I laughed harder.

"What?" Robin snapped.

"You seriously thought that was _planned_?" I asked.

Robin's expression changed into something I couldn't read.

"You weren't... part of the plan?"

"No..." I shook my head. "Did I do something that made you think I was?"

"A few people saw you talking to Joker, Harley, and Poison Ivy the day of the escape." He frowned suspiciously.

"Harley and Joker were just messing with my head, trying to freak me out for some reason. Ivy...I don't know. Maybe she wants me to join her. She told me to look me up when I'm ready, whatever that means." I rolled my eyes at him.

"Did you give her an answer?"

"No. And before you ask, no, I don't _want_ to join her. I never even considered it."

I know I was lying a little, for awhile I did think about joining Ivy in exchange for room and board. But that was just the desperation talking. Even so, there's so way I'd admit that to anyone. Especially not Robin.

He tapped some more random keys, eyes narrowed in concentration. I watched him in fascination, amazed at how comfortable he was. He didn't keep shooting glances at me to make sure I wasn't trying anything, he was confident that he'd properly secured me and could afford to be reckless. I couldn't help but think that if the situation was different I might actually enjoy being this close to the Boy Wonder. The kid isn't exactly horrible looking.

"What're you doing?" I asked.

"Shut up." He snapped.

Hey, at least he answered me.

"Come on...Please?"

"Shut. Up."

I lost my patience.

"Boy, what is your _problem_ with me?"

"I believe someone who kills their whole family without provocation doesn't deserve special treatment, okay?" He growled.

I was taken aback. Even the Justice League believes I'm guilty.

"Not you too..." I shook my head.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone thinks they know me, and yet they don't bother taking the time to actually listen to me."

He shook his head. "I know I'm going to regret this...Fine, Mallory, what's your story?"

"You're not going to believe me..." I sighed.

I told him the whole story, from beginning to end. I didn't leave out a single detail, even my lack of guilt from stealing from Alice. I feel bad about it now that the adrenaline rush has died down, but that's not the point. I did it, and I did it without remorse. Isn't that one of the symptoms of a sociopath?

I finished my story and looked back up at Robin. He seemed doubtful, which wasn't surprising. I wouldn't have believed me either.

"And...you don't believe me." I huffed.

"I want to. I mean, putting a kid in Arkham? I can't believe they would even...If you weren't a meta-human..." His voice trailed off.

"I guess it's just because the crime was so heinous, and the fact that it was caused by a meta ability."

"I didn't mean to start that fire." I defended.

"See, I don't know that. I want to believe you, but I can't." Robin said.

"I see what you mean..." I looked away from him.

"Look, let's take this to Batman, he'll know what..."

Before Robin could finish the sentence, a huge ivy tendril shot out of the sky and wrapped around Robin's chest. He was lifted into the air and tossed back and forth between another tendril like a ragdoll. I gaped at him, helpless with my arms and legs tied.

Suddenly the wiring that bound my limbs together grow slack. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease out the tension. I turned, trying to see who had set me free. I was hoping for a cop. Or better yet, Batman. I'd probably be taken back to the asylum, but at least Robin would be okay.

Instead I found myself staring into the bright green eyes of Poison Ivy.

"What...?" I stood, planting myself a good five feet away from Ivy.

She smiled at me, waving her hand towards her babies. The plant monsters reached out, wrapping their vines around Robin's ankles and underarms. Then they began to pull him apart, I could hear the boy's spine crack as the vines gave his body a twist.

"You needed help..." She shrugged. "Is it wrong to help out a child in need?"

I bit my lip. If I didn't do something Robin would be pulled apart. If I did, she'll turn me into plant food. I grabbed the part of her arm protected by the sleeve of her shirt. I couldn't muscle my way through Ivy, but maybe I could reason with her.

"Ivy, please...Don't hurt him." I begged.

"Why do you care?" She sniffed. "Do you want to be taken back to Arkham?"

"No!" I winced as Robin let out a soft groan of pain.

"But the last thing I need is to have another murder on my rap sheet. Besides, he wasn't hurting us. Not really. Can you just..Let him go?"

Ivy sneered at me, and I was pretty sure I was going to join Robin in getting my spine realigned when the vines suddenly released Robin, unceremoniously depositing him at my feet. In a second he was on his feet, despite the obvious pain he was in.

"Don't come crying to me when the Boy Wonder breaks your heart!" She screeched at me.

Ivy lifted her arms and let her baby wrap around her like it did to Robin, gently lifting her from the ground and taking her away. Robin threw a couple of batarangs, which lodged into the plant's thick greenish skin before they disappeared over the rooftops. A moment later the bat-signal appeared in the sky, calling the Dark Knight farther downtown where Ivy and her babies were no doubt tormenting productive members of our society.

Robin turned to me, nodding towards me in a grudging thank-you. I jutted out my chin a little, even after that he still didn't trust me. Couldn't say I blamed him, I did run away from him like a common crook. Running makes you look suspicious, I guess. Too late for regrets now.

"Come on," He reached for my arm, remembered what happened the last time, and let it fall to his side.

I smiled at him, concentrating on staunching the flow of electricity to my skin. I reached out, brushing his arm to show him he wouldn't be electrocuted again. He jumped a little, a clear indicator of his distrust, but he nodded and took my arm.

He didn't grab me as roughly as the last time, giving me a slight ray of hope. Maybe he did believe me, maybe not. Either way, it was progress. I followed him without question, anxiety clawing its way into my heart. Everyone admires the Dark Knight, but he has this way of intimidating people.

When he neared the latter, my resolve started to crumble.

"I don't wanna go back to Arkham..." I whimpered.

"I can promise you..." He smiled at me. "You will not go back to that asylum."

I smiled, feeling my spirits instantly begin to soar. I didnt care where I went, as long as it wasn't _there_. I saw something out the corner of my eye. I turned, puzzled, and felt Robin's grip tighten on my arm. We were back on the sidewalk, facing a line of cars stopped because of the roadblock. They were too caught up in their own lives to notice us, but I figured that wouldn't last long. Robin is like a celebrity, tommorow videos and pictures us will be all over the Internet.

That thing, whatever it was, rushed past me again. This time I managed to get a better look at it, the thing was colored a bright canary yellow with small spots of red dotted over it. And it was moving very, _very_ fast.

"Good job, Rob." I felt something seize the back of my shirt.

I turned, instinctively trying to wrench myself away from whoever was holding me. It was Kid Flash, a cocky grin plastered across his face. I frowned, what was he doing here? Robin was just taking me to see Batman, right?

"Go back with the others, KF, I got this." Robin spoke through gritted teeth.

"Why? Aren't you gonna need help transporting the kid back to Arkham?" He jerked a thumb in my direction.

I turned to Robin, accusingly. "You said..."

"I know, I know...KF, _go_, now. Quinn, I was supposed to arrest you but...you don't seen crazy to me..."

He seemed honest, but the hole in his story repelled me away from him. I took a step back, bumping into something hard and solid. I looked around, it was a good-looking big with black hair that looked a lot like Superman. Two girls, one of which was green, and a dark-skinned boy materialized beside Robin. The Superman-kid grabbed my shoulder, squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise.

"Let go..." A spark formed in my stomach, a result of my feeling of betrayed from Robin and fear of returning to Arkham.

Unfortunately, the kid was holding my shoulder when I released the small electric charge.

The electricity shot up his arm, forcing him to release me and stagger back a few feet. The others, seeing this as an act of aggression, got ready to fight. I tried to explain, but they didn't seem to be in a chatty mood. Besides, I never got the chance.

An arrow whizzed by my head, prompting the others into action. Robin appeared in front of me, his face blank as a canvas. I opened my mouth to say something, until I saw the object in his hand. A pair of handcuffs.

"Robin?" I backed up a little.

"Sorry, Mallory." Was his only response, glancing over at the others.

I balled my hands into fists. So that was it, he lied to me. He intended to pacify me so that I didn't fight him, and then kick me right back into that asylum. Ivy was right, I couldn't trust him. And it did hurt, deeply. I'd put trust in the boy, and he let me down

"No..." Electricity crackled through the air, my hand stood straight up. "No, No, _No_..."

I opened my eyes wide as electricity flowed from my fingertips. The radiant blue sparks danced on the ends of my fingers, making my hands tingle. I lifted my hand, awed. Suddenly the power was too much, and before I could redirect it the electricity exploded out of my hand in a huge electric arc, slamming into Robin.

The boy was blown back a few feet, cape smoking and head rolling to the side. I was afraid I'd killed him, but just then he uttered a low moan of pan and I knew he'd be okay. The bigger problem was Robin's friends, who now have plenty reason to want me hurt.

I felt drained, the power needed to create that big of an electrical shock sapped all my energy. My hair fell flat on my head. Even if I wanted to fight back, which would be suicide, there was no way I'd be able to conjure up so much as a spark.

"This is just not my day..." I backed away.

Something wrapped around my ankle, lifting me into the air by my leg. I turned my body slightly, staring into Ivy's green-tinged face. She stood on a giant vine, smirking at my upside-down face. She looked smug, I knew she was waiting for me to beg for her help. I just gaped at her, speechless.

The Martian and the big, muscle-bound kid came at us. Ivy rolled her eyes in irritation, watching one of the vines whip around and smack the teens out of the air. I saw them slam into the hard concrete below and cringed, that _had_ to hurt.

"So, Sparky, what'd I miss?"

"Not much." I sighed, trying to ignore the huge ache in my chest. "You were right."

"Always am." She replied.

Her plant monster turned me right side up, planting me beside Ivy and turned to shield us from the barrage of arrows coming our way. Ivy opened her palm, and her rose wiggled out of my backpack that I'd abandoned on the roof after my shuffle with Robin. The blossom flew into her hand, nuzzling her palm like a small puppy.

"So, Quinn..." She grinned, holding the rose out to me.

"Are you ready?"

I hesitated briefly, then smiled. I took the rose, letting it crawl back into my hair.

"I am."

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><p>Random: Remember the episode Humanity when Red Tornado's creator was rewiring him? Why was it necessary to put a blanket over a robot?<p> 


	6. Multiple Personalities

New chapter, like it. Or don't. I don't care...actually, that's a lie, I hate rejection. ):

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><p>I'm in over my head, aren't I?<p>

I bent over, bracing my hands on my knees in an effort to catch my breath. Sweat poured off my face, soaking the front of my shirt. My heart pounded in my ears, but I heard Ivy approach me and sigh in dissappointment.

"Honestly, Quinn, I'd thought you were a little more durable than this."

My head snapped up. It just wasn't fair. She pushed me so hard, and then got mad at me when I was too exhausted to continue. A usual training session for us consisted of gymnastics, cardio, muscle-building exercises, and sparring. Although I don't think what we do can legally be called sparring, it was more like I stand there and try to keep from keeling over as Ivy smacks me around a room.

"I'm trying..." I grunted.

"Trying isn't good enough." She growled.

I stood upright. "Give me a break, Ivy. I'm only thirteen."

"I was results, not excuses." She snapped. "Now, come at me."

It was impossible, I was too tired, but I did as I was told. Ivy pivoted on her heel and kicked me in the stomach when I tried to trip her up. I fell to my knees, pain shooting up my abdomen. I gritted my teeth, holding my stomach, and slowly staggered back to my feet. This time Ivy scowled at me, holding up a silver staff she often used for training. I freaking _hated_ the thing.

_**Crack!**_

I was on my hands and knees, struggling to regain my breath.

"Get up." Ivy barked.

Slowly, shakily, I obeyed.

**_Crack!_**

"Come on, Mallory. Get up!"

_**Crack! **_

_**Crack!**_

_**Cr-ack!**_

"Enough!" I roared, every inch of my skin burning with energy.

"...Quinnie?" Ivy's voice was wary.

My mind was full of static, a red veil obscured my vision. The power started to overwhelm me, consuming every fiber of my body. I tried to control it, to nullify the electricity building in my chest. It was no use, if anything my efforts only made it worse. It began to be hurt, I squeezed my eyes against the pain. Finally, I lost control. I threw my head back and screamed as electricity came off me in waves. Everything within a five foot radius got shocked, including Ivy.

Ivy's body was thrown against the far wall. She sank to the floor, moaning in pain and trembling with the aftereffects of my electric shock. I gasped, racing to her side and kneeling beside her. I was in so much trouble, Ivy got at me all the time for no reason. Now she _has_ a reason.

Ivy made a noise in the back of her throat. It took me a moment, but I realizOed she was laughing.

"Good job, Sparky." She chuckled, pulling herself into a sitting position. "Very, _very_ good."

"Um...thanks?" frowned.

"Now, get out of my sight." she waved me away.

Usually, this order would have me running. But she said it with a smile, and without the usual coldness in her voice. I left the room, snatching a water bottle from the cooler outside the training area. I drank half of it, pouring the rest over my sweaty scalp. The floors were made of grass, real grass, and would appreciate the extra drink.

Ivy's estate was a house in an abandoned housing development built over a toxic waste dump. Ivy had injected me with a toxin antidote so the waste wouldn't kill me. I guess that meant I have the same immunity to poison as Ivy now, plus some added benefits. Whatever was in that shot also enhanced my strength and stamina, a perk to being Ivy's assistant.

I went outside and walked across the yard, which resembled a scene from Jurassic Park, making my way to the house just opposite of Ivy's. My house, I guess you could say. It was only a two floor dilapitated little building, but it had air conditioning. At this time of year, air conditioners are usually not needed. Usually. But Ivy stole some junk from Weather Wizard to keep the air around the development warm for her babies. The heat didn't seem to bother Ivy at all, but it was absolute murder for me.

I stepped over the threshold, relishing in the blast of cold air that greeted me. I had no plants inside the house, absolutely none. The outside was coated in ivy tendrils and other vegetation, sure, but I had cleared out all plant life the day I moved in. I'm not quite sure why, maybe I just wanted to show Ivy that she didn't own me completely.

I planted Ivy's rose blossom in the dirt outside, which probably symbolizes something if you look hard enough.

I stepped into my brightly lit kitchen, cringing at the overly cheery yellow paint. My next home improvement project was going to have to be painting my walls so they don't look like a banana threw up all over them.

I grabbed a PowerBar from the top of my microwave and a Brisk ice tea from my fridge and went into my living room. This part of my house I had no problem with, it was like a freaking utopia for teenagers. A huge flat screen TV dominated the far wall, so big and beautiful I wanted to cry. Not completely sure how we get service, I guess that's one of the many mysteries of life that will never truly be solved.

I flopped down on my insanely comfortably futon-like couch and kicked off my shoes. I clicked on the TV and started watching the new episode of The Flaming C. In front of me, a file lay strewn across my coffee table. I averted my eyes, there was no need to worry about something I couldn't control.

Still, the infuriating thing kept drawing my attention away from the TV. I reached out and curled my fingers around the edges of the folder. The Flaming C was just making a bunch of bad guys slightly warm with his magical smoking oven mitt when I opened the file in my lap and leafed through the papers.

The documents layed out the details of my first heist.

I wasn't completely sure how I felt about that.

I mean, of course I was scared. But it was a numb kind of scared, like an emotion felt merely out of obligation. Poison Ivy was sending me into danger, a proper reaction to that kind of thing would be fear, right? Then again, how many people out there have been in my situation.

I tried to delay it, but Ivy took care of every minute detail. She gave me an air ship with automatic defenses and auto-pilot. The storage room on the ship was full of emergency supplies ranging from parachutes to bandages.

She even got me a costume, not that it mattered concidering the whole world probably knows about Ivy taking me on as a...a what? Apprentice? Assistant? What the hell _am_ I anyway? Anyway, the suit was supposed to be prepared for any situation. Bullet proof, water proof, flame resistant, conducted electricity...there wasn't a single thing wrong with it. And believe me, I looked.

Maybe the whole theft thing won't even be a problem. I'm starting to get a handle on my powers...at least, I can keep myself from electrocuting people most of the time. The plant juice Ivy shot me up with has turned me into a freaking acrobat... Ivy's taught me to fight, even if I still get my butt whooped during training. I think I can hold myself in a fight...at least I hope I can...

Okay, so maybe having self-confidence isn't my strong suit.

I threw the file back on the coffee table, trying to concentrate on The Flaming C and The Invasion of the Snow People. About ten, fifteen minutes later I heard a crash as the front door was slammed open and a very angry Ivy stormed into my living room.

I pressed myself into the leather interior of the futon, eyes stretched open wide in alarm. The only other time I faced the full force of Ivy's anger was the other month when I accidently knocked over Ivy's dragonsnaps. I had to hide in a closet for about nine hours until she calmed down.

In a flash Ivy had me by the ear and was dragging me towards the back room.

"Ivy...what's going on? Ow! Ow! Leggo!"

Ivy shoved something into my arms, the costume, and gave me a scowl.

"Change of plans, kid, get dressed. We have to grab the diamond and book it..." She looked over her shoulder as if afraid of being seen.

"And by we I assume you mean me." I frowned.

"Now you're learning." She nodded, turning on her heel and leaving me alone.

I blinked, knowing that it was pointless, and stupid, to argue with Ivy. I stripped out of my old clothes, changing into the blue and white bodysuit. I reached behind my back, struggling to pull up the zipper on the back. The costume was dominantly blue, the exact color of lightning flashes, with white detailing and inertia absorbers. Naturally, the costume itself was made of rubber to conduct my electricity with ease. My gloves were blue, with strips of metal on the palms. I told Ivy what had happened with the batarang and she thought I could use my magnetizing ability to my advantage. I looped a silver belt around my waist and pulled a white mask over my eyes. Why I needed a mask, I couldn't tell you. Ivy designed the costume herself, deeming me Electrolyte.

She could call me Sparky-Sparky-Boom Girl for all I cared, I didn't want to go.

When I was all suited up, I went into the living room and saw someone had changed the channel. Ivy, however, was no where in sight. Shrugging, I picked up the remote and prepared to change it back so I could see if the Flaming C was on again.

The images I saw dancing across the screen made me freeze. It was..._me_. Pictures of me flickered in front of my eyes, recent ones from my trip to Arkham and old ones taken as far back as kindergarten. I clutched the remote so hard my fingers hurt. Nervously, I looked at the name of the program:

GOOD GIRL GONE BAD: THE STORY OF QUINN MALLORY.

Intrigued, I leaned forward and glued my eyes to the screen. A woman, Cat Grant, appeared on the TV; shaking her head in fake sadness. I'd seen it all before, a huge tragedy in the nation and everybody tries to jump on the coattails. Except this time, I was the tragedy.

"Now we go to Mallory's aunt for a deeper look into this troubled youth's life."

The camera cut away and my mean aunt Ruby, who always wore these god-awful robes around her house that barely covered everything, materialized in front of me. She was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, which would've been heartbreaking if I didn't know that she was faking it. Ruby cared little for me and my parents. If anything, she was just using the family crisis to get attention.

"I..I just don't understand..." she sniffed, leaning against the handsome young reporter beside her.

"I mean...Quinn wasn't very popular in school. Always writing these creepy little poems about death, walked around with the most hateful expression in her face. I told her parents she needed help, but they couldn't believe their baby girl could hurt so much as a fly. And now look at them..."

I balled my hands into fists. Ruby had no conversation with my parents. She only showed up during Christmas so she could collect her gifts, cram half a dozen deviled eggs down her throat, and book it.

"If Quinn's watching this, I want her to hear something..." Ruby got closer to the screen.

"You're scum, you hear me? Sooner or later the police are going to catch you and you'll spend the rest of your life behind _bars_ you heartless, little monster!"

I'd had enough, I turned off the TV and hurled the remote at the wall. Fighting off tears, I made my way to the bathroom so I could splash cold water on my hot face. I was furious and heartbroken at the same time. I didn't care that Ruby was just blowing smoke so she could getI it on with the reporter, he words stung.

_Scum..._

_Heartless..._

**_Monster..._**

I looked up, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Even with my hair dyed blonde, I was still recognizable as Quinn. At this point disguises didn't matter, but every time I looked in the mirror and thought of myself as Quinn Mallory a wave of pain and anguish crashed down on me. I looked too much like mom and dad for me to ever be able to stand the person I saw in the mirror.

At that moment I knew what I had to do. I had to kill Quinn Mallory. Sever all ties to my old life and be reborn as Electrolyte. And let's be honest, what did I have left of my old life? A mean old aunt who was only interested in getting a man? Some family.

Briefly, I wondered about the kids at school I used to know. They probably talked about me for awhile, then moved on to something far more interesting. I could just imagine the conversations they had 'Quinn always was a freak' or 'Jeez, Mallory? Her locker was right next to mine! She could've snapped and killed me at a moment!'

I reached into the cabinet and pulled out a pair of scissors and a bottle of hair dye. Later on I'd ask Ivy about some other accessories that I'd need to complete my makeover. In order for this to work, I had to change a lot more than my hair color.

I grabbed a strand of yellow hair, slid the sharp edge of the scissors down its length, and closed the two blades together with a satisfying snip. The hair fell from my hand to the porcelain basin beneath me, lying in the drain like a blonde hairball.

If the whole world wanted me to be a psychopath, _fine_.

I'd be the baddest psychopath they'd ever seen.

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><p>Not very eventul, but I wanted to establish that even Quinn's surviving family is unreliable. Plus I felt it was important to delve into what Quinn thinks about finding herself in the 'care' of a supervillian.<p>

Random: now I love Klarion to death, but his fingernails are out of control. Did he paint them black and sharpen them with a file or something? If so, why? Is it supposed to make him look scary? I'd be scared if he threatened to gouge my eyes out with them or something, but otherwise...*shrug*


	7. Becoming a criminal

Hey, everybody? How's it going? Im awesome, thanks for asking.

**hey, guys, quick question. If I write YJ reviews and post them as a 'fic' will any of you report me? Or are any of you genuinely interested in what I have to say? If enough of you like the idea I could have the one for Misplaced up as early as tommorow. :D**

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><p>In the end, Ivy had decided to come with.<p>

Did that mean she was going to help me out? _Hell no_.

In fact, I'm pretty sure she's still in the airship preening over a ficus and admiring herself in a mirror. Some mentor, huh? Then again, she hasn't smothered me in my sleep or ditched me yet so...I guess you got your good and your bad.

Her 'airship' really wasn't built for two. And then Ivy insisted we brought along some of her babies to, and I quote, 'make the trip more enjoyable.' Seeing as I spent the majority of the trip being pricked by thorns and having my face smashed against the windshield, I have to disagree with her.

The size of the ship made it easy to conceal. Come on, we parked in a freaking _tree_. Am I the only one who finds this odd?

I pressed my hand against the wall, palm flat against the drywall, and short circuited the security cameras lining the hallway. Every hallway, in fact. I closed my eyes and ordered the currents of electricity to stop flowing towards the cameras.

I'd learned this little trick when I accidently fried our toaster during a bad breakfast episode. I had to practice with lightbulbs, resulting in a lot of broken glass, but I'd learned to control the flow of electricity. You know...Sorta. I redirected the flow to the lighting fixtures, causing most of them to explode. Don't ask me how I knew, it was just like I could feel the electricity powering the bulb suddenly die. It was weird.

Picking up the pace, I used the mueseum's directories to find my way around. Yup, that's me. The evil mastermind who has to stop and check the brochure she took from the front desk. Uh-huh, I'm the living embodiment of evil, aren't I?

Every step I took supercharged the floor, it was just me nerves getting the better of me. When a few guards popped out of the shadows and made a grab at me, they're bodies spasmed and dropped to the ground. They were still living, evident by the fact their chests we're still moving. I'm a lot of things, but I'm no murderer. That's one line I promised myself I would never cross.

I burst out into the Gems and Minerals wing of the museum, scuffing my boots on the red carpeting as I hustled over to the large display case located in the center of the room. There weren't any motion detectors or any other James Bond-esque stuff like that. This isn't like a cartoon where everything is either ridiculously easy or insanely hard. Besides, if there was anything like that I would've sensed it and cut the power.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I approached the glass case. There wasn't a laser grid, but the case was wired. Probably with some kind of pressure sensative alarm. I unhooked the leather rope used to keep back curious museum-goers from its tether and kneeled. After a quick energy diversion, I straightened out and examined the case.

It wasn't glass. It looked like some kind of plexiglass, but I wasn't sure. Removing a glove, I conjured up a spark on my fingertip and concentrated. Lightning is hot, right? So I figured I'd be able to made a charge large enough to burn. With the guards, my electricity hadn't been that strong. Probably the equivilant of a taser. Painful, but not lethal.

I had to be careful, if I slipped up I could burn myself or set the whole museum on fire. I'd practiced melting a couple times, but not enough to really get a handle on it. The spark sputtered and died a couple times, but the heat radiating from the bluish white spark soon became intense. I used my free hand to grip my wrist and steady it, meticulously guiding it to the case.

The heat from my electricity started to eat a hole in the casing. At first the gap was no larger than a dime, but it slowly widened until I could fit my head into it. I let the spark fade before I reached into the case and closed my hand around the diamond. Ivy would probably sell it to build a greenhouse the size of a castle or something, leaving very little for my own personal use.

But I wasn't here for monetary gain, I was here to prove myself.

I started easing my hand out of the case, fingers gripped tight around the gem. Something flew through the air, whistling past my nose and pinning my sleeve to the bottom of the display. I glared vehemently at the much too familiar object. It was metal, expertly crafted into a shape that creatively represented its user while functioning well as a projectile and a boomerang.

A birdarang.

I tucked the diamond in my shirt, tightly grasping the projectile in my fist and wrenching it free from the soft wood. I leaped to my feet, feeling my hair rise of the back of my neck as an electric charge started building in my chest.

Robin, birdarang in hand, stepped into the light. I smiled in amusement as I saw that many of the lights hanging above the boy's head were blown out. If he had been waiting here for me, as I assumed he had, the lights suddenly exploding around him probably scared the crap out of him.

"Robin." I said coolly, slipping the diamond into a pouch hidden on my belt.

"Quinn..." He blinked at me, assessing my new look.

I thought he was going to comment on the costume, or my apprenticeship to Ivy. What he did, however, was raise his eyebrows at me and say.

"What the heck did you do to your _face?"_

I touched the new piercings hanging from my skin. I had a nose stud, two eyebrow rings on each eye, and a lip ring. Innocent little Quinn Mallory wouldn't have dreamed of doing something like that, but Electrolyte sees no problem with it. My hair was cut short, almost like a boy's, and dyed neon green. I'd nearly given Ivy a heart attack when I first stepped out of the bathroom with my head looking like a green highlighter. She had been heistant when I first mentioned piercings, but in the end she had bribed and threatened some guy into poking holes in my face. He was a professional, at least...I think he was.

"I reinvented myself, Bird Boy." I waved my hand dismissively.

"And it's Electrolyte, by the way."

Robin scoffed, definetly _not_ the response I'd hoped for, and offered me his hand.

"Give me the diamond, Quinn. We'll sort this out."

I stepped back, defensively clutching at my belt.

"Fat chance." I spat.

"Come on, Quinn..."

"_Electrolyte_!" I shrieked. "Quinn is gone, do you hear me? She's _gone_."

"Electrolyte..." Robin said, holding up his hands.

"I can help you, the League..."

"Last time I heard that you came at me with a pair of handcuffs!" I snapped.

"I was trying to _protect_ you. If I hadn't acted like you were under arrest they would've attacked you."

"I would've been fine." I scoffed.

"Oh, really? We both know you can't control your powers very well, you were scared out of your mind, and all my friends have had professional training. And you say you would've been fine? Come on, Quinn, stop lying to yourself." He met my gaze calmly, talking to me as if I was still in kindergarten.

I clenched my hands into fists, furious because I knew he was right. They would've ground me right into the pavement. Still, Robin's story seemed a bit sketchy. Then again, I don't really trust anyone anymore. I had to trust Ivy, just beecause without her I wouldn't have all the necessities for survival: food, shelter, clothes, and television.

"Know what, Robin? I don't believe you. You lied to me, whose to say you're not lying now? You want the diamond? Then come _get it._"

"Quinn..." He warned.

I glared at him, knees bent, shoulders squared. Electricity sparked between my two upturned hands, dancing along my fingertips in light blue sparks. Robin took a step back, and I realized that the carpeting under my feet had begun to smoke.

"Robin." My voice was gravely.

"I don't want to hurt you." His muscles tensed, contradicting his 'not wanting to hurt me' statement.

"Really? Cause I wanna hurt _you_."

I launched myself upwards, soaring over Robin's head and landing neatly behind him. I tried to kick his legs out from under him, but Robin was too fast. He whipped around, hurling a batarang towards my head. I dodged to the right, feeling the sharp metal nick my cheek when I didn't get out of the way fast enough.

Blood oozed out of the wound, running down my cheek and down my chin. I cursed under my breath, hand flying to the cut. I knew I was inexperienced and slow, but I didn't realize _how_ inexperienced and slow I was until I had to go up against an experienced fighter like the Boy Wonder.

Robin rushed him, swinging a booted foot in my direction. I ducked, making his foot pass harmlessly over my head. I smiled, pleased with myself until a metal staff caught my jaw. My head snapped back, metallic-tasting blood spilled into my mouth and made me gag. Robin raised the metal pole above his head, looking steady to turn me into an Electrolyte-ka-bob.

I backed up, launching five-foot-long bolts of electricity at him. He easily dodged each one, advancing quickly in my direction. Panicking a little, I raised my hands and let out a pulse of electricity that surrounded me like a shield.

Robin stood on the opposite side of the dome, his image warped and distorted by the electricity. I didn't know for sure, but the Boy Wonder looked slightly less than pleased. Wiping the blood off on my sleeve, I forced myself to stay calm and try to rationalize.

Okay, so there's no way I can keep fighting him hand-to-hand, and I can't keep this bubble up forever. Robin's form moved across the dome, probably looking for a weak spot. I had to hurry, I could feel myself weakening. Maybe I can magnatize the pole and get it away from him, but what good what would that do? Robin would just kick the crap out of me and take it back.

But it is made of metal...

I had an idea, a bad one, but it's better than none at all and if I'm really, _really_ lucky it _just_ might work. And that's a pretty big 'if.' But I have to try. I let the shield fall away, throwing myself forward and racing towards the Bat's protégé.

Robin raised his staff, effectively blocking my attack. My forearms slammed against the metal pole, leaving bright purple bruises just under my wrists. My fingers curled over the pole, briefly brushing themselves over Robin's hand. I grinned at him, he scowled back.

"I can't believe you would even _try_ that." He barked.

"And _I_ can't believe you'd try fighting an Electrokinetic with a metal stick." I smirked.

Realization and horror passed over his face, he tried to pull away but every molecule of my body had been supercharged with electricity all evening. A bolt of energy, not strong enough to kill, traveled from my outstretched hands and into the metal. Metal is an excellent conductor of electricity, so it wasn't difficult for the bolt to jump into Robin's body.

His body spasmed, mouth open in a wide 'O' of surprise. Shock and pain was written all over his face; his knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground, slightly twitching with the aftereffects of the shock. I sighed in relief, touching my belt to make sure I had the diamond, and turned around.

Someone's hand clamped down on my shoulder, roughly spinning me back around. I found myself staring at a well-muscled abdomen, covered in gray spandex and sporting an orange-yellow utility belt. My heart dropped into my socks, realizing with a jolt that there was only one person it _could_ be.

Still, I craned my neck upwards to look at the face of the man who now held my shoulder in a vice-like grip. His gloves were shock resistant, a fact I found out when I tried to electrocute him and got only a glare in return. His face was cold, cruel, and very, _very_ angry. Not surprising, given I had just zapped his sidekick into unconsciousness.

He said nothing, but his hand moved to grip the base of my neck. Before I knew what was going on, Batman had pressed a damp pad over my nose and mouth. It was soaked in a sweet-smelling liquid, probably chloroform. I thrashed, feeling the drugs start to take effect.

One of the last things I saw before I blacked out was Ivy, I spotted her thin silhouette outlined against one of the large skylights hanging above my head when I looked over Batman's massive shoulder. Her face was obscured by the shadows; the only way I could recognize her was from her unmistakable green skin and red hair, both dyed purple by the moonlight.

I opened my mouth, in a silent plea for help. She turned, leaving me to fend for myself. I wanted to cry, but the drugs had me in such a state of drowsiness I couldn't do much more than blink. Even that became difficult when the drugs gripped me tighter, making my eyelids grow heavy.

I finally stopped fighting, it was pointless anyway. Everything was pointless. _My life_ was pointless.

I was stupid for ever thinking otherwise.

* * *

><p>Hey guys, a few questions before I get onto my usual randomness.<p>

A lot of spoilers have been released. Like a lot. So SPOILER ALERT! IMMA TALK 'BOUT EM.

Some dude in a warehouse snapped a cell phone pic of action figures for season two. One showed Megan with shorter hair, and I've heard that woman will sometimes cut there hair to show grief at the loss of a love one (Cough, cough, Superboy, cough, cough) what do you all think about the hair cut? I know some cosplayers out there are shrieking in agony right now.

Aqualad and Robin have slightly different outfits. Maybe Aqualad's the mole and changed his costume cuz he's leaving his life as Aqualad behind? And Maybe Robin is taking one tiny step forward into becoming Nightwing? I'm not sure, What to you think about the costume change?

Superboy is going to go back to Cadmus cuz he thinks there are more clones. It'll probably be Match, the Superboy version of Bizarro. But I'm gonna cling to this faint hope that it's gonna be a younger female clone so Conner gets a sister. I freaking love reverse gender clones. I do...they are...so awesome. (Marvel's X23, female clone of Wolverine. Look her up) Any thoughts/concerns about new episodes?

Roy Harper (Red Arrow) is coming back in an upcoming episode. Is he gonna join the team? Maybe, but here's my theory. Maybe he'll come back...with a baby. I really want Lian (Roy and Cheshire's baby) to show up. Just so the team will have a baby to coo over because they were so adorable in Misplaced. Plus, its about time Lian Harper got an animated appearance. The summary for that episode says something along the lines of Roy's return undercutting Artemis's confidence. What would kill her spirit more than her mentor's old protege showing up with her sister's baby? I'd be afraid Roy would know something and let it slip, or maybe someone would see the family resemblance in Lian and Artemis. What do you think?

Okay, now that that's over, Random!: When they showed Sportsmaster in civvies my first thought wasn't 'that's Artemis's dad!' it was 'he's kinda good looking...' come on, he is!


	8. Kleptomania

**Hey, guys, I'm writing reviews for YJ episodes now. Might wanna check that out...hint hint. And, my moronic friend and I have started making video blogs, vlogs, if you will. Basically, it's just going to be us reviewing YJ episodes along with other crap we like. We've only made one so far, and no one's commented so...yeah, mind checking that out? It's called, 'Young Justice Review: Misplaced. WARNING: EXTREME RANDOMNESS' My account name is Randomsocks14, we used mine because my friend doesn't have one. You guys get to guess which one is me, the idiot who keeps looking away from te camera or the idiot who keeps playing with her hair. Seriously, if you at least comment on it and tell me your Fanfiction name I will give you 10,000,000 cool points and devote a chapter to you :D**

Review! :D

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><p>Why does life have to suck so much?<p>

I sat at a table made of plastic, scowling hatefully at the Dark Knight and Black Canary. They'd brought me to the Hall of Justice, probably just because it was convenient. I refused to believe the Hall was the League's real HQ. Whenever I'd brought this up at school they'd tell me I was stupid, how could it _not_ be their headquarters? The Leaguers appear on TV and _say_ that it's their HQ, so it _must_ be true. Because _no one_ in the League _ever_ lies to anyone, right?

Seriously, guys, common sense: If the Hall was their HQ would the League allow people to stand behind the observation windows, pressing their fat faces against the glass staring at the heroes like they were animals in a zoo. Plus, if the Hall was truly their HQ wouldn't there be more attacks on it?

I took my hands, tied together with zip-ties, and laid them on the table. I did my best to interlock them like the bad guys do in cartoons and tried to look indifferent. A strand of green hair fell into my eyes, I crossed my eyes trying to look at it.

The two Leaguers just sat there, staring at me like some kind of weird creature grown in a government lab.

"So...we just gonna sit here or..." my gaze flickered to the heroes.

"That depends on you..." Batman's stone-cold expression didn't falter. "Are you willing to talk?"

I chuckled, a sound so bitter it even surprised me. "I'm evil, remember? An irredeemable criminal. Why are you even bothering?"

"I don't think you're evil." Canary's words were sympathetic, but her eyes held distrust.

"You're right, I'm just a very naughty girl. I kick puppies, I kill birds with a slingshot and rip the wings of butterflies. Will my reign of terror never end?"

I let my head fall to my chest in pretend shame.

I guess they didn't find me as funny as I did.

"Honestly, Quinn...this could be over easily. From what Robin told us, your case wasn't investigated right. What happened here is illegal. If you talk to us, we can help you." Canary tapped a file lying in front of her.

Part of me felt drawn to her, desperate to believe what she said was the truth. Problem was, I had absolutely no idea what the truth was anymore. My parentseweere modest, teaching me to be grateful for everything I have. Ivy had a completely different set of views. Usually her views had something to do with plants or how polluting, filthy humans are a scourge on the earth. Robin and the other heroes, they believed in truth and justice and all that jazz.

And I...I wasn't sure what I believed in. All I know for sure is that these people could send me back to the asylum, and there was no way in hell that I'd allow that to happen.

"Not illegal." I smiled, a little half-tug in the corner of my mouth.

"Didn't you hear? I'm insane. _Legally_ insane. Got the papers and everything."

I looked at the two heroes, gauging their reactions. Neither seemed mad, but Batman was plenty irritated. Canary's expression was harder to read, but I could tell she wasn't pleased. He rose, gesturing for Canary to do the same.

"Fine, have it your way. Maybe a few hours in here will soften you up." He growled.

Batman stood, storming towards the steel metal door that opened with a soft swish. The way his cape swirled behind him and his long, purposeful stride seemed a tad overly-dramatic if you asked me.

I put my hands behind my head as best I could, leaned back in my plastic chair and glared at the ceiling. I'd already decided I would escape, in an odd foggy sort of way. Like I was in a dream and I was simply going through the motions of life but, end the end, nothing I could say or do would matter.

When you think about it, it's sort of true. I'm in far too deep, there's no going back now. Besides, there's not anything I have to go back _to_, except for my mean aunt Ruby who cheated my mother out of her inheritance when Grandpa died and her forty cats that pee all over the carpet. It's just not worth it to try, to even entertain the idea of trying.

I closed my eyes, feeling the currents of electricity running through the walls of the Hall like they were competing with one another to see which one of them could power the most machines in the least amount of time.

The thought made me smile.

I got out of my seat, settling myself in the far corner and leaning my head against the cool cement walls of my prison. I pictured the electricity flowing through wires; a powerful, unstable force furious at being contained. I never thought about it before, but electricity was a killer that we willingly let into our houses. How many fires have been started by something electrical? How many people have been struck by lightning?

I'll never have to worry about those things, the electricity wouldn't even hurt me. But it was then I truly realized why Ivy had taken me in, I was a living weapon. Make me mad enough and I could kill, albeit accidently.

I reached out, imaging a bungee cord connecting myself to the electricity throughout the Hall. I could feel the immense power at my fingertips, and was temporarily tempted to kill the electricity right then. Instead, I forced myself to wait. Seconds turned to minutes, the electricity became as impatient as me. Jumping and leaping in anticipation, desperately wanting to be free.

I waited one hour, two.

Finally, when I estimated the sun must be down in D.C by now, I wrapped physical fingers around the base of the bungee and pulled like I was yanking an electrical cord out of a wall. It gave, the electricity I had been linked with for so long died, and I was plunged into darkness.

Covered by shadows, I grinned smugly. If I was right the Hall would be void of all heroes, leaving me to deal with some idiotic security guards who thought they were hot shit because the Justice League them to watch a flashy false-front designed to satisfy curious tourists.

I actually knew some of the guards that worked in the Hall, seeing as I spent the majority of my life here. Yes, I'd always had a hunch it wasn't real. But it was so nice to push the doubs away and _believe_, believe in the lie and awe over the beautifully crafted building and to peer through the thick, bulllet-proof glass and take pictures of the heroes even though it made me feel like a major dork. To smile at the other dorky kids there and talk about what the heroes were discussing and dream up possible life-threatening missions they were about to go on.

In the end, my fantasy world wasn't real. The Hall was nothing but an giant lie. The Justice League were my idols at one point, my shining light in the dark world I lived in. Unfortunately, they were my enemies now, the only thing I'm allowed to feel for them is cold malice and hate. I raised my hand, watching my fingers explode in a shower of sparks and created a nice glow I could use to slice through the shadows. I melted the zip-ties from my wrists, staggering to my feet and rubbing my sore joints.

I reached the door, sliding my free hand across the cold metal sliding door. I found it funny that the Justice League had splurged on fancy doors that opened sideways, like the doors of an elevator, just for a building that was little more than an elaborate stage. It should be grateful, I knew. If it was a normal door I was dealing with, escaping would be much, much harder.

I concentrated, fueling the door which opened before me like a show was about to begin. I smiled, stepping over the threshold and looking both ways down the hallway as if I was crossing a road. I'm sure alarms would be wailing in my ears right now if I hadn't disabled them.

Resisting the urge to laugh, I chose a corridor and started down it. I was in no particular hurry, assuming that I wouldn't have to deal with anyone other than some puny security dudes. I marveled at how easy it was, escaping a League facility. I know they probably don't take this place very seriously, but...

A metal projectile flew past my ear, cleanly severing a piece of bright green hair from my scalp. The object, an arrow, having missed its target continued its journey and dug itself into the wall. Almost unconsciously I threw an electic bubble around me, hearing more arrows ping of the side and fall uselessly to the ground.

I didn't turn around, instead I knelt beside the arrow and wrapped my lean fingers around its base. With a quick twist and a yank, it came out of the wall and settled into my palm with a tiny puff of drywall dust.

I scowled in irritation. I recognized the shape of the arrowhead and the distinctly shaded fletching, not Green Arrow's or the extremely attractive Speedy...Or Red Arrow, I should say. The archer had appeared on TV one night before the fire, vehemently stating he was no longer a sidekick and his name wasn't Speedy anymore. I knew he was being a giant asshat, but he was a hero and he was hot. My attention never left the boy for a second.

No, the League had sent their cheap knock-off counterparts to deal with me. With a twitch of my hand the blonde annoyance was slammed against the wall parallel to us. I let the bubble and the arrow drop, assuming that the others couldn't be that far behind.

My feet picked up speed as my panic increaded, I _really_ didn't need another encounter with Robin. I'd met the boy twice, and each time I ended up hurt or in huge trouble. He was a bad luck magnet for me, and I knew that if he caught up with me Robin would just try to fill my head with lies. Like he did the last time. Like Ivy told me he would.

I didn't blame Ivy for not rescuing me as soon as Batman showed up. One of the first things she taught me was that I had to solve my own problems because she didn't have the time or patience to play babysitter. It was better this way anyways, my rap sheet is notably smaller than hers. I'd get off much easier than she would.

There was a noise, a noise I couldn't identify. It kind of sounded like a giant hummingbird wearing Reeboks running across linoleum. Realization dawned on me just a half-second too late, a whirl of red and yellow exploded into my line of sight. A kick sent me sprawling to the floor, gasping as the air left my lungs.

Breathing heavy, I flipped over onto my stomach and glared up at my attacker. Kid Flash swiped at me, missing only because I managed to roll to the left despite the fact that my lungs were in serious pain. I reached out, wrapping my supercharged fingers around the boy's ankle.

It was like a giant firecracker went off underneath him. Her slammed against the far wall and sunk to the ground like a broken puppet. He was unconscious, clearly, but I didn't waste any time being smug over taking him down. I could brag to Ivy later. Without bothering to reignite my electrical flashlight, I raced blindly through the halls. I used my hands to feel around, occasionally using my shins to find a piece of furniture in the dark.

I turned down a corridor, realizing that I'd hit a dead end only after I'd collided into the wall. After a brief hesitation, I made a spark in my palm and held it up to the wall. Plain steel. No doors, no windows, no...

There, at the bottom right of the floor, lay a heating vent. The heat had been turned off, along with everything else in the building, so it wouldn't be a problem to maneuver my way through them. Unless of course the vents couldn't take my weight...

A crash and a shout came from somewhere behind me, giving me more than enough incentive to drop to my knees and tear the metal grill away from the vent. I squeezed myself through, I just barely fit. Someone yelled at me again, I made out the words 'stop' and 'no.' Struggling to stay calm I turned as best I could and shot an electric charge through the grill. It sprang up, clinging to the vent like its life depended on it.

I started crawling through the venting system again, I was just taking a left when I heard a curse and someone yelling "She magnatized it!" I allowed myself a tiny smirk, but I forced my arms and legs to go faster. They were heroes, I highly doubt a heating duct will pose a huge problem.

I reached up and used my shirt as a makeshift facemask to help filter out some of the dust. I coughed, trying not to retch. My hands became covered in dirt as I climbers through the ducts, choosing different paths at random. One of the routes stopped dead, slanting upward into a sharp horizontal line. I groaned, knowing that I was too drained to magnatize myself to the sides of the ducts and climb up. Using my own physical strength wasn't an option either, even after weeks of training my arms still looked like limp noodles.

Using my hands to propel myself backwards, I backtracked and tried to find another path. I stretched my legs as far as they would go and tapped the toes of my boots against the sides of the duct in an attempt to paint a mental picture of what lay behind me.

I selected a route different from the way I went the first time and kept sliding through the ventilation system on my stomach like some sort of really confused penguin. My hands were being rubbed raw, do to the fact that Batman confiscated my gloves while I was still zonked out.

Suddenly, the ground dropped out under my feet. I don't know what I was suspecting, a nice gentle slope maybe, not this sudden drop. My legs, hanging over the hole, started dragging me down into the abyss like an anchor. Frantic, I used my hands to scrabble around the vent in search of a handhold. But the ducts were made of metal, completely smooth except for a few screws jutting into the vent. And those proved useless, being too small to provide a nice grip. I tried to use my legs to brace myself against the vent behind me. Instead of helping, this only seemed to make it worse.

I plunged downwards, not falling far, and landed safely on my feet. I was just about to let out a curse and try to drag myself back up when the metal under my feet crumbled like it was made of wet tissue paper. I was falling, except it was a much farther distance this time. I twisted in midair, landing on my side on the hard concrete. I groaned, gently ghosting a hand over my sore ribs. Nothing was broken, but I knew that sometimes people can suffer internal bleeding, bruised organs, or any number of potentially dangerous enemies. No problem, I'd just get Ivy to check me out when I get back.

Gingerly, I stood, looking around the room and squinted in the gloom. Only a few lightbulbs hung from the ceiling from long metal chains, offering very little light. It looked like a bacement, one very rarely used. Curious, I shuffled forward and kept my eyes peeled for anything cool.

I was just about to give up when I saw it: Black as night and gleaming like a polished gem in the light of a single overhanging lightbulb. The tires were massive and looked like they could glide across pavement without a sound and still make sharp turns on ice. It's windshield, obviously made of bulletproof glass practically sparkled. I leaned forward, peering in at the incredibly theatrical seats and high-tech controls that lay inside.

It was the Batmobile.

Almost subconsciously, I reached out and laid a hand on the hood. The machine roared to life, opening outwards like a giant metal flap. The scent of leather and motor oil hit my nose, nearly making me stumble backwards at it's intensity. Casting a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure I was alone, I slid into the driver's seat and settled my hands on the bat-shaped steering wheel.

I didn't know why I was doing something so stupid and reckless, maybe I knew my freedom probably wouldn't last long or maybe I just wanted the bragging right. Not a lot of people have even been within spitting distance of the Batmobile, let alone inside it. And out of that select handful, how many of them have a criminal record?

I settled back into the high-backed leather chair, grinning like a maniac and striking a dramatic pose. Looking to my right, I noticed a smaller chair situated a little ways back from the driver's seat. From the bird-shaped motif decorated the back of the seat. Sneering, I realized that the bird had left a spare utility belt lying on the seat cushion.

I should steal it, or at least empty out all the little pockets. I grabbed it, clipping it around my abdomen and adjusting the size to fit me. Batman took every ounce of equipment I had, stripping me of my diamond as well. I can use Robin's trademark fashion statement to replace my lost belt. It won't make up for the lost diamond but it'll most likely get a rile out of the heroes when they see me strutting around with it tied snug around my waist.

"GET AWAY FROM THAT!" Someone screeched.

Not bothering to look up, I reached up and pulled the door shut. Fists hammered against the side, shouts echoed through the basement like war cries. I bit my tongue, gently resting my fingertips on the control panel. I couldn't make sense of the dizzying keyboard-like panel, but the mechanics behind all the glittering dials was practically child's play. Just a simple matter of igniting and killing different electric currents.

I could pilot it.

I knew I could.

My sweaty hands gripped the wheel again. My heart was doing crazy jumping jacks inside my chest, but I forced myself to swallow big gulps of air and focus on the engine. With a fierce snarl, the Batmobile woke up and took off into the dark. The headlights flicked on automatically, letting me actually see where I was driving. I struggled to keep my eyes open as I guided the speed demon to what I guessed was the garage door.

I exploded into the night, releasing a beast onto the streets of D.C. I pulled out into a street, unable to stop or even slow down a little. Up ahead, an intersection was flooded with cars. The traffic lights were slowly changing colors, letting cars move around. But there was no way they'd get out of my way in time.

And there was no way I'd be able to stop.

Somwhere in the back of my panicked mind, I heard someone screaming.

I realized that someone was me.

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><p>Cliffhanger...make sure to read the little paragraph in the author's note at the top of the chapter. :D<p>

Random: I thought Wally looked adorkable in those little turtlenecks, although I think the bright yellow one was a little much. Look at me, questioning the fashion of superheroes...Still, how does his mother even let him out of the house?


	9. Hydrophobia

**THANK YOU JANELLEL, BUNNII BOUNCER, SHADOWTAIL43, EARLYMORNINGWISHES, and DIANA SILVER. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOMENESS PERSONIFIED! HOPE YA WATCH THE OTHER VIDS WHEN THEY COME OUT! We'll ****definetly mention you in the next vlog! As for the rest of you, I'd appreciate if ya checked it out cuz after the last little shout-out I gave to you all we have a grand total of 60 views, 3 comments, and 0 subscribers...it's progress, I suppose. And the video hasn't been out that long.**

Review! :D

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><p>It's official, guys, there is some divine force out there that is out to <em>freaking<em> kill me.

The Batmobile growled at me, refusing to brake no matter how much I begged. The vehicle was tricked out with a ton of sweet tech, unfortunately making it very hard to distinguish which electrical current powered what.

I also knew that most of the Batmobile's engineering had nothing to do with electricity, but in the garage all of Batman's toys tricked me into thinking that I could drive what was probably the fastest car on the planet. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Horribly, _horribly_, wrong.

Panicking, I let go of the wheel completely and took my foot off the gas pedal. The Batmobile didn't stop, it didn't even slow down. Maybe Batman has to leave the seat when he's driving sometimes so he rigged the car not to stop, I wouldn't rule it out. Stupid Batman and his stupid technology.

I watched the approaching cars, screaming and clutching helplessly at the wheel. Do you know how people say that your life flashes before your eyes when you're in a dangerous situation? Something like that happened to me, except it looked a lot like an anti-bullying commercial. The part where they show dramatizations of kids getting the crap beat out of them, at least. Trust me, really sucks to be on the business end of that.

I turned my attention to the controls and started pressing buttons and pulling levers. When in doubt, press random buttons, I suppose. My eyes fixed on a particularly large red button, just begging to be pressed. I know they say never tough the red button, but give me a break I was desperate.

I lunged, covering the button with both hands. The Batmobile lurched a few times before slowing to a stop. I breathed a sigh of relief, sagging over the diver's seat.

And then the Batmobile shuttered and began to hum. Metal ground against metal, a high-pitched scream filled the air.

"Oh..Oh...Something's happening!" My hands raced across the keyboard, trying to undue whatever I had done.

The Batmobile began to rise, I peered out the window and saw the cars below gradually shrink. Somehow, I'd activated the Batplane mode. If I touched the wrong thing now, there's a good chance I'd accidentally stall the engine and then - _splat_.

Swallowing hard, I touched the steering wheel with a single hesitant finger. My gentle touch made the Batplane swing to the right, turning sideways and careening towards the ground. Luckily, I had risen far enough off the ground so there wasn't an immediate collision with the cement.

I grabbed the wheel, righting the aircraft and pulling upwards. I soared into the sky, leaving the awestruck bystanders far below. I let go of the wheel, letting the craft hover unmanned in the air. I opened my mouth and forced air into my aching lungs. If I got caught now. I was dead. In all the years the Batmobile had been in service I don't think anyone's had the guts, or the stupidity, to actually _steal_ it.

Taking a deep breath to stabilize myself, I wrapped my fingers around the wheel and turned it. I peered around the panel a saw a screen depicting a detailed map of the country. A little red blip was hovering over DC, clearly indicating where I was. Afraid to touch anything else, I aimed the Batmobile in the correct direction and gave the accelerator a little gas.

My goal was to get back to Ivy's apartment complex, after that...Well, I'd figure something out. It wasn't a great plan, but it was the only one I had. I putted along at low speed, not daring to try anything more. It was taking forever, but it's better to be safe than dead.

I looked at the map again, I was nearing Gotham. Usually, a supervillian hiding out in the home of the Dark Knight sounds like a seriously whacked idea but Ivy sees it as a big game. Hiding right under their noses, she said. I thought of it more like playing with fire, but it wasn't my place to correct her.

I was almost to the complex when the Batmobile gave a fierce shudder and started to drop. At first I was afraid that I'd accidently hit a button or something when a hologram appeared above my head and a woman's computerized voice crackled out of the speakers.

'WARNING: LOW FUEL, RETURN TO NEAREST LEAGUE FACILITY.'

"Not really an option for me, Computer-Lady." I grumbled, squinted at the city below. I was almost there, if I could just hold on for a few more minutes...

Alarms screamed in my ears, the Batplane dipped another forty feet. Knowing it was pointless to try and pull up, I tipped the nose of the plane slightly and tried to coax the Batplane into a glide. Hopefully I'd make it to the complex before the Batplane ran completely out of gas. I fumbled around the seat and pulled the seatbelt across my chest and strapped myself in. I knew that if my mother were here that would be the first thing she'd think of, not the chance of crashing into a skyscraper and dying, oh no.

"Cool it, Mallory. You're not crashing, you're just..._landing_. Yeah, that's it."

'WARNING: LOW FUEL. PLEASE MAKE EMERGENCY LANDING NOW.'

"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" I snapped, scanning the ground for a good place to land.

There, Ivy's forest of mutated evergreens that lay just outside the complex. There was a huge lake in the center of it, surrounded by jagged rocks that formed a sort of bowl to help catch rainwater. Ivy claimed having a large source of water nearby helped the plants. Personally, I think it was majorly inconvenient. The water attracts all sorts of animals and bugs, which then go and gnaw on her precious trees. And _who_ do you think has to scare them all away?

Today, however, the lake presented the perfect landing strip. All I'd have to do was land in the water and scramble out the car door before I drowned. From there, I'd climb over the least steep cluster of rocks. Is it a good plan? Not really. Do I have anything better? No, no I do not.

Dropping the nose a little more and trying to ignore the computerized voice screaming in my ear, I prayed Ivy wouldn't be too mad at me for wrecking a enormous metal speed demon in the middle of her pond. I looked back down at the ground nervously, I was too far away from the lake and I was falling far too fast.

Looks like I'll be taking out a few of your beloved trees too, Ivy.

I neared the lake and let out a sigh of relief, this was actually going to work. I wouldn't be able to go as far out as I wanted to be, but I knew that as long as I got away from the forest's egde where the rocks were steepest I'd be fine. I hovered briefly at the lake's edge, pondering how exactly I was going to go about this when the Batplane completely ran out of fuel. My stomach was thrown up into my throat, I pushed down on the wheel and tried to clear the short patch of trees that stood between me and the water.

There was a tremendous crash and the sound of metal smashing against wood. The Batplane plowed through the foliage, breaking branches and snapping tree trunks. One of the wings completely broke off, disappearing into the darkness of the forest.

I hit a particularly large tree and slammed my head against the windshield, sending bright pops of red and yellow blotted out my vision. Eventually, the throbbing pain in my head ebbed away and the world faded to black...

When I woke up, I was upside down.

My head hurt like crazy, a trickle of blood running down my forehead and blinding one of my eyes. Groaning, I wiped the crimson liquid away from my eye and twisted around to try and see where I'd landed.

What I saw made my blood run cold.

The bottom half of the plane was stuck in the water, the rest lay lodged in a tree planted at the water's edge. There was a huge hole torn out of the back, allowing copious amounts of water to flood into the Batplane's leather interior. The extra weight was slowly dragging the plane, and _me_, down into the watery depths.

I'll tell you what, there's no better alarm clock than fear.

I unbuckled the seat belt, wrapping my hand in the leather strap to keep from falling into the broken glass of the window. I grappled over to the door and pulled on the handle. Not surprisingly, it didn't budge. Frustrated, I kicked at it and felt the plane slide forward a few more inches.

_Okay, okay, no more kicking. Kicking: bad. Sitting still: good._

The only problem with that is I can't afford to wait, precious seconds are ticking by and I'm wasting them watching the Batmobile fill with water and yelling at myself to sit still. I reached out with renewed energy and felt around for something to smash the window. My hands curled around a flat piece of metal, probably the only thing left of the Batplane's left wing. I examined the window closest to me and frowned, it would be impossible to smash out that window and crawl through without being badly cut.

I turned my attention back to the windshield instead. It was already cracked and missing in some places, knocking out the rest of it shouldn't be too difficult. Working carefully and quickly, I chipped away large chunks of glass with the jagged slab of metal. There wasn't time to bust out the whole windshield, so I settled for creating just a Quinn-sized hole.

It was almost large enough for me to slip through when another gash opened up a good foot and a half away from the first. The water poured in twice as quickly, dragging the Batplane down like the lake was completely filled with quicksand. I blanched, striking out at the window again. I missed, my hand scraping across the broken windshield and opening up a large gash on the back on my hand.

I winced, wishing I could cradle my hand against my chest and whine for half an hour like I usually did when I got hurt. The rational part of my brain kept telling me that if I didn't move, I'd get a lot worse than a little scratch. I reared back, strategically aiming a blow to knock out a large part of the glass. I smiled at the satisfactory smashing of glass and the fresh air that pumped into the car through the newly-formed gap.

I gripped the bottom of the windshield's frame, letting the metal piece fall into the churning water below. My handhold was free of glass, but it was still hard to hold onto. I pulled my head and torso through the gap, dragging my upper half onto the roof. The Batmobile tipped dangerously, but luckily the water weighing down the back half of the vehicle was much heavier than I was.

I pulled my legs through next, scooting forward on the Batmobile's hood to make room. I rose to a crouch, carefully gauging how fast I was able to go without falling out of the tree - or worse, into the water.

The Batmole gave another fierce shudder, and suddenly the hood was being dragged out from under my feet. I stumbled, slamming my knee against the hard metal hood. All that water had finally become too much for the Batmobile and was quickly submerging itself into its watery grave.

I cursed, pulling myself back to my feet. If I didn't do something, and fast, I'd fall into the lake and wouldn't be able to crawl back out again. I'm a pretty good swimmer, but I'm only human and I'll get tired eventually...

Making a split-second decision, I took a deep breath and bent my knees a little. Bracing myself, I focused my eyes on the nearest branch and extended my arms to it - like a small child reaching for her mother.

And then - knowing full well that if I fell short - I was doomed, I jumped...

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><p>Cliffhanger again! Do you hate me yet?<p>

Random: During Image when Miss Martian (Disguised as Black Canary) kisses Conner I kinda sorta freaked out a lot (I was basically screaming 'B-Black Canary? Conner? No, just no. What are you doing YJ, that's sick! He's freaking sixteen! Shebsjshsis, Malfunctioning! Malfunctioning!) but then when I found out it was Megan and I calmed down. But then I got to thinking...Are Miss Martian and Conner roleplaying now? Still kinda weird when ya think about it...O_O


	10. Schizophrenia

Does anyone know when Young Justice Invasion aires? Cause I cant find it...

Anyways, review and I'll be your best friend. Seriously. :D

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><p>I always thought narrowly escaping death would be kind of cool. I'd pop my collar, grin at bystanders, turn around and walk towards the sunset with my hair blowing behind me and feel like a major badass. Oh, and a theme song playing in the background would be nice too.<p>

In reality, it's a horrible, traumatic experience that makes you want to curl up into a fetal position and cry for a couple of hours.

I jumped straight up, reaching towards the tree branch like I was trying to dunk a basketball. I stretched, _stretched_...and missed.

I was so close that my fingertips actually brushed the wood. I guess I didn't jump high enough, or maybe I was just too short. My body almost seemed to hesitate briefly in the air before I startedo rocketing downwards.

I screamed my head off, frantically trying to grap something - _anything_ - to slow my fall. I closed my eyes and prepared for the sickening splat of my body smacking against a branch and tumbling into the jagged rocks below.

I jerked to a stop, my shoulder nearly wrenching out of its socket. After my heart slowed down to a safe 250 beats a minute and I realized that I hadn't been smashed into hamburger meat, I dared to look up to see what had saved my life. A tree branch, snagged on the light blue material of my sleeve.

I would have laughed, but that might shake the branch and send me spiraling to my death. I grabbed the branch, gently disentangling my sleeve with my free hand. I looked down, resting my right foot on a branch below me and gradually adding weight to test its strength. After I was sure it would hold, I planted another foot on the limb and wrapped my other hand around the branch above me.

So far so good.

I sighed in relief, inching over to the trunk by slowly pulling myself along the tree branch. I froze when I heard the wood underneath me crack, but the branch merely dipped a little. Still, I thought it was probably a good idea to be more careful from now on.

Shifting slightly, I wrapped my arms around the trunk and looked down for the next branch. I spotted one not too far down from where I stood. My left foot went down, then my left. When I was finally situated I grabbed the branch I had been standing, scooted over to the trunk, and looked for another branch.

I repeated the process about ten or twelve times, carefully making my way down the tree. After a hour or so, I looked down and realized I was about five feet off the ground. Smiling a little, I wiped away the sweat that accumulated on my brow and anticipated the moment I could stick my head inside the freezer and then take a nap on the kitchen floor.

The branch under me cracked. This time, I wasn't alarmed. The tree had snapped and crackled under my weight about a million times on my way down, and nothing had happened. I was just lowering my right leg when the branch snapped in half underneath me and clattered to the forest floor.

With a yelp of surprise, I plummeted to the ground and got the wind knocked out of my lungs. After a few terrifying moments of writhing around and not being able to breath, I swallowed a huge gulp of air and painstakingly lifted my bruised and battered body from the forest floor and waited until my legs stopped trembling. I was a little beat-up, but nothing was badly hurt and I was able to walk.

Only then did I turn around and examine the damage I caused. You could clearly see where the Batmobile had cut a path through the forest: some of the trees only had a few broken branches and patchy foliage, where as others had been completely torn out of the dirt and or snapped in half. Looking down I spotted the Batmobile's front wheels were lodged in the lake's rocky side, preventing the vehicle from completely submerging into the water.

My God, I'm not even exaggerating this time: Ivy's probably going to kill me. She's already made it quite clear that she cares a lot more about her plans than she does about me. I'd hoped that I could deliver the Batmobile to her as a sort of gift, retribution for her dearly departed babies. But now that I actually saw the damage, I realized that the Batmobile would be completely useless to her now. Anything cool that had been inside the plane was either smashed to pieces or waterlogged.

I touched the belt that was still looped around my waist. I still had that, maybe I could give the utility belt to Ivy and then it's be okay that I demolished the forest...I shook my head, irritated. Even if by some miracle she was happy with the gift, her joy wouldn't last that long. Unless it involved plants, she could care less. And besides, when I'd fastened the belt around my waist inside the League's underused garage it had become...mine, somehow. A reminder not to trust anyone, not even Ivy. My anchor to reality.

Sighing heavily, I began the long walk to Ivy's complex. As I neared the houses my skin started tingling, as it always did when I hadn't had Ivy's steroid-like toxin antidote injected into my blood stream for awhile. As soon as I got back I knew I'd have to ask Ivy for it, otherwise the toxic waste that lay under the complex would kill me and decompose my body before anyone could have the chance to find out what happened to me.

Not that anyone would care, of course.

I stepped into Ivy's house, trying unsuccessfully to push away the depressing thoughts that threatened to infiltrate my mind. And then I heard it - voices: loud, angry, and disagreeing - coming from the den. One of them belonged to Ivy, I'd know her high-pitched squall anywhere. The others, however, were a mystery; I couldn't tell if they were male or female, young or old. As I listened, I heard the words 'child,' 'investment,' and 'unacceptable' drift out from the living room.

I froze in mid-stride, standing a good four or five away from the room. I was hidden from anyone's vision by a section of wall, but if I made a sound everybody would be able to hear me. For some reason, the conversation unnerved me. I wasn't sure about the rest, but the only 'child' around here is me. Unless the mystery man/woman is talking about Ivy, which is unlikely considering the word wasn't followed by pain-filled screams and crying.

Intrigued, I crept closer and leaned against the wall near the doorway, head cocked to the left so I could hear. It was definitely a man speaking this time, and he was extremely unhappy. His booming voice carried clearly across the room, chilling me to the very marrow of my bones.

"I can't believe you _lost_ her, do you have any idea how much that brat is _worth_?" He raved.

"Hey, it's not like I _knew_ bird boy and Bats were going to show up. Besides, I was told to train and teach, not to act as babysitter." That was Ivy, using the dismissive tone she always used when she knew that she messed up and didn't want to admit it.

"Train, teach, and _care for._ A girl her age is usually self-sufficient, all you had to do was keep track of her." He retorted.

"If the League learns who she is - _what we did to her..._The project would be a failure. Millions of dollars - up in smoke!"

I swallowed, hard. I wasn't sure what was going on - but I didn't like it.

"Relax, she hates the heroes. All it took was a boy and a betrayal and I had the kid practically eating out of the palm of my hand. Teenage girls are so predictable..."

"And what of her loyalty to you? Does she trust you? Does she believe everything you tell her as the truth? Does she even _like_ you?"

For once, Ivy seemed to be at a loss for words.

"You should've taught that child to obey you without question, to trust and love you as if you were her mother. That would have made it so easy, to teach her to love our line of work as well. Hell, the kid probably would've been eager to do it, to launch herself headfirst into the criminal empire. But then you had to go and ruin any chance of that happening..."

"The heist...I was keeping tabs on her adrenaline levels. Her heart rate. It was giving her a rush, the stealing, fighting Robin..." Her voice was meek, timid. Very unlike Ivy.

"WE DON'T NEED A _THIEF_, IVY!" He bellowed. "WE NEED A WEAPON!"

I had to choke back a gasp. A _weapon_? I couldn't know for sure, there was a slim possibility that I'm wrong and they're not talking about me...A very, very slim possibility, but...It made sense. Ivy's persistent attempts to get me to join her, the ridiculously intense training, her eagerness to get me into the life of a criminal...

I knew I had to get out of there - and fast - but I felt rooted to the spot. Here I was, once again being ripped away from another home. There has got to be something wrong with me...Trouble seems to follow me like a moth to a flame.

"Now, now, everyone - in the grand scheme of things, this is but a minor setback..."

A new voice had joined the cacophony of arguments and squabbling. It belonged to a woman - very young, probably college age. Maybe younger. Her voice was like liquid heaven, flowing easily from her mouth like honey from a pot and soothing the anger bubbling up inside the room like a cooling balm on an infection. I choked back a scream. I knew that voice. What's worse, it was someone I was close to.

"I'm sure if we just calm down and...did you hear something?" She inquired, bewilderment staining her lovely voice.

I ran then.

I had no sense of direction, of destination. I just ran.

My feet flew across the pavement, not slowing when the streets and sidewalks gave way to grass and dirt. Trees rose up around me, blocking me from the artificial sunlight Ivy pumped into the complex. I found myself rushing past the lake, shooting a sideways glance at the Batmobile. It had submerged itself completely into the water, leaving only a corner of its hood breaking the surface and glinting in the sun.

Shaking my head and once again regretting the moment I climbed into the stupid vehicle, I wrest my gaze away from the lake and kept going. By then a stitch had formed in my side and my breathing had become ragged and heavy.

When my body couldn't possibly go any farther, I flopped down on the forest floor and leaned against a gigantic redwood. Tears, hot and salty, ran down my face and stained the collar of my costume. I was too tired and too shocked to do much more than gasp, so I lay slumped against a tree and cried without sound.

I didn't understand. I couldn't understand. Everything I thought I knew made no sense anymore.

The voice was someone I knew, yes, but our connection ran deeper than that. Closer. I'd known this person my whole life, I trusted her and loved her with every fiber of my being. She'd been my best friend. My only friend.

The voice belonged to Rebecca, my dead sister.

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><p>I freaking love Cliffhangers. They make me giggle.<p>

Random: Luthor's shields from Agendas are probably addictive or something. When he runs out Conner will probably turn to heroine to get his fix and be sent to rehab...O_O


	11. PassiveAggressive

**Hey guys, my friend and I have completed the rest of the YJ reviews and are now on YouTube. Hint hint...My username is Randomsocks14.**

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><p><em>This can't be real, none of this can be real...<em>

I bowed my head, hugging my knees to my chest and tucking my head into the crook of my arm. The flow of tears had subsided, but I still felt that I could start up again at any moment. I didn't understand the world around me anymore, it felt like some kind of elaborate practical joke - and a cruel one at that. Or maybe, somehow, some sort of ridiculously lifelike dream. I desperately wanted to be able to reach over, pinch my arm, and wake up to the sound of Ivy shouting at me to get my lazy butt out of bed. Or even better, opening my eyes and seeing my mother's beautiful smile beaming down at me as she gently brushed the hair from my cheek and telling me that breakfast was ready. Even the dreary walls of Arkham seemed appealing at this point.

I sighed, once again bringing back the sound of my supposedly dead sister's voice. I tried to tell myself that I was mistaken, that in my panicky state the voice had only _sounded_ like Rebecca's. After all, your brain can play tricks on you if you're not careful.

But my sister's voice is unmistakable. She has this way of talking... I don't know how to explain it. You just can't stop listening, almost like her voice is hypnotic. Even Rebecca herself knew the effect she had on people. She was a motivational speaker, and she worked at a kid's day camp over the summer.

No...I suppose I just had to accept that, no matter how much I'd like to believe otherwise, my sister was alive. She was part of something bad, something that somehow revolved around me. She had said that losing me was a setback. Who talks about the disappearance of her sister like that? Like I'm nothing but a minor annoyance, something that can be easily fixed and the forgotten about. Even if you happen to be working with the bad guys - I can't exactly judge since I myself haven't been completely innocent in that respect of late. Don't I mean anything to her?

But on the other hand, she's my _sister_. She used to drag me to sappy romantic movies on weekends, and then take me shopping and buy me something frilly and pink. I'm not exactly girly, but I tolerated the excursions because I was at least spending time with her. What we were doing didn't seem to matter. Even after she graduated high school and moved out when I was nine, she always made time for me. In fact, it wasn't uncommon for me to come home to Rebecca cooking something on the stove or laying draped over the couch and working on one of her speeches. I knew her, I trusted her. She wouldn't do anything to hurt me, right? But then...why was she holding a secret meeting with a bunch of shady characters? It begs the question...Just who _is_ my sister?

I probably could've laid there all day, beating myself up and trying to sort out this new, unexpected twist in my trainwreck of a life - but there was Ivy and her mysterious companions to think about. I wasn't sure what they'd do to me if I got caught - but it couldn't be anything good.O

I stood, quickly wiping my face with my sleeve and testing my unsteady legs. I could stand. I guess that's good news. Biting my bottom lip so hard it nearly drew blood, I brushed a strand of hair away from my sweaty forehead and tried to plan my next course of action.

I had to find my way away from the complex. But unless I want to walk, I'm going to need a ride. The Batmobile's not an option, even if I could somehow get it out of the lake there's no way it'd even start. Ivy had a car, but it was parked behind her house and was guarded by two mean-spirited grape vines. They'd grab me and alert Ivy before I even had a chance to scream.

I leaned against one of the trees, rubbing my temples. I was starting to get a massive headache, which didn't make figuring this out any easier. Maybe I could find a way to distract Ivy and her companion so I could take a pair of hedge clippers to the vines and hop in the car. I'm not exactly an expert driver, as seen when I tried to pilot the Batmobile. But her car had autopilot, all I had to do was type a destination into the keyboard and I'd be on my way.

But how would I manage that? By now, they must know that sound was me. They're probably looking for me right now, and I don't think they're very happy. And then of course there was Rebecca to think about...

Almost unconsciously, my fingers wrapped around the utility belt, wrapped taunt around my middle. Surely, I thought, the Bird Boy had _something_ interesting hidden away inside all the belt's cute little pockets. Something that may catch the attention of Ivy, my sister, and whoever else lurked inside the house. Could I find a way to distract them, and get myself a ride at the same time?

Maybe.

I unclipped the belt, kneeling on the ground and spreading the belt flat on the ground. I fumbled around a bit, pulling out a variety of batarangs, cables, explosives, and other gadgets. The last pocket I checked contained five metal cylinders that looked similar to road flares. I turned one of them on its side, squinting at the tiny writing on the side.

'DISTRESS SIGNALS: USE ONLY IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY.'

"Well, Batsy, I'm pretty sure this qualifies..." I breathed, stuffing the contents back into the pockets and pressing the signals into my palm.

This could work, but I'd have to work fast. I took one of the signals, setting it at the base of the redwood and pulling out the tag located on the side. Like a road flare, the top began to glow, but it didn't give off light and spark.

I moved quickly after that. I returned to the complex, setting up another signal at the disused guard gate that separates forest from complex. I thought I heard the roar of an engine, possibly an aircraft. I reminded myself that Batman's car was currently at the bottom of a lake, but that didn't kill the small flame of hope that had ignited somewhere deep inside my chest.

I scanned the abandoned complex, surprised at the lack of activity. Surely someone saw me, or heard me gasp. Ignoring the uneasy feelings gnawing away at the back of my mind, I sprinted up to Ivy's house and planted another signal on the porch.

I only had two signals left. I knew I had to get rid of them, and quick. Right now, the League probably assumes that I'm one of their own in desperate need of help. No one can know that I was here, or that I know there was an ulterior motive to Ivy's help.

I inched my way along the side of the house, peering into the windows as I passed and trying to force them open. Locked, Locked, Jammed, Locked. I grunted in frustration, reaching the last window on this side of the house. The one that led to the den. I swallowed, squatting on the ground and gripping the windowsill with one hand and holding the signals in the other.

I took a deep breath and peered over the windowsill, squinting through the dirty glass at the occupants of the room. I bit my lip, trying to hold my composure as I surveyed the room before me. One of the people was Ivy, naturally, she stood with her back to me. Even from where I knelt, I could see the tension in her shoulders.

Someone's underlings skirted the room, hired muscle dressed up all pretty in three-piece suits. I spotted the man who was obviously the owner of the raging voice. His face was colored beet-red and a vein pulsed violently on his forehead. He looked familiar, maybe he was someone famous...?

I blinked, realization hitting me like a cannonball. Of _course_ he looked familiar. The man is all over the news anymore, especially now after the Rhelasian peace summit. It was Lex Luthor - the brilliant CEO of LexCorp.

I narrowed my eyes a little, confused. What did a spoiled, suave billionaire have to do with any of this? A part of me wanted to laugh - the universe has been dealing me a lot of wild cards lately, hasn't it? I suppose the real question is exactly how am I going to handle it?

_I'm not..._I grinned, squeezing the metal tubes in my hand. _The League is - none of this is my problem..._

I believed it, too. I believed that the League would show up, take the bad people away, and I'd disappear before anyone saw me. In reality, nothing is that simple, but at that moment I didn't care. I wanted to be a naive child who thought that everything would be alright in the end. So I decided to ignore all logic and reason and pretend that - for just one moment - I could be happy and carefree.

And then I saw Rebecca.

Any lingering hopes that I was mistaken were quickly obliterated. That was, without a doubt, my older sister. She stood between Ivy and Lex, hands spread out like a referee calling a game. Her long black hair was pulled into a ponytail, her skin was tan and had a healthy glow. Her face was made-up, but only subtly. You wouldn't notice it unless you new Rebecca personally. She wore a white business suit, decorated by a gold pin on the front of her shirt. Even her fingernails looked nice, all manicured and painted blood red.

She looked well, _really_ well.

I think that simple fact surprised me the most.

I'm not saying I expected her to be thin and haggard or dressed all in rags or something, but...She didn't even seem mildly upset. I would've settled for bags under her eyes at that point, something to show me that she was worried.

I wonder if she knew our parents were gone. Or maybe she did, but just didn't care.

Biting my tongue, I set another signal on the windowsill and backed away from the house. Shielding my eyes against the sun, I scanned the sky for any sign of activity. Nothing yet, but that didn't mean I had the luxury of sitting out here in the open.

I made my way to the back of the house, looking for somewhere to ride out the storm. I paused, looking up at the sky again and frowning. I'd thought that someone would show up by now, but I suppose it didn't matter. As long as they show up and I'm out of sight.

And that is when all hell broke loose.

Something smashed into my side, knocking me clear off my feet and into the side of the building. Dazed and in pain, I blinked up at what had hit me: a square, jagged piece of rock surrounded by a thin golden sheen. Bewildered, I looked over and saw a raven-haired girl in a magician's outfit standing over me, hand raised. She scowled at me, fingers twitching in anticipation.

I growled, so _that's_ what happened. Some stupid metahuman chick saw the distress signal and came running. Frustrated, I scrambled to my feet and balled my hands into fists. Electricity sparked off me in waves, forcing the girl backwards. With the other hand I slipped my last signal into my pocket, not sure what I was going to do with it now.

I stamped my foot in anger, knowing that I looked like an overgrown toddler but not caring. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to attack Ivy and her freak friends, not _me_. That's..that's great. Just. So. Freaking. _Great_.

"Eitgoh reh." She hissed, pointing dramatically at a vine.

"Excuse me?" I squinted at her, momentarily doubting my hearing and her sanity.

The vine whipped itself away from the tree, throwing itself at me and looping around my ankles. I swayed dangerously for a moment before ultimately stumbling and landing flat on my face. I attempted to get back up, resulting in the vein seizing my wrists and folding my arms behind my back. My wrists and ankles were tied together by another length of vein before whatever the girl did wore off or whatever and the veins hung limp around my limbs. Hogtied and helpless, I squirmed around on the ground and shouted profanities at my captor.

"Well..." She regarded me with disdain. "That's pleasant."

"Oh, so you _can_ talk right." I spat. "Good, I did _not_ want to have to play charades with you."

"That's...hilarious.." She rolled her eyes, looking around for something.

I looked too, and saw nothing. Whoever she was, this girl was expecting company. Sure, I could zap through my bonds at any moment but...If I played this right I might, possibly, be able to still follow through with my plan. But first...I had to keep her talking.

"So...who are you? Doctor Fate's illegitimate brat?"

The girl stiffened, hands automatically curling themselves into fists. "They call me Zatanna."

"_Zatanna_?" I wrinkled my nose at her.

"Yup."

"Dumb name."

"Oh, and I suppose _Electrolyte_ is any better?"

"At least it makes _sense_." I fired back. "Your name makes you sound like some kind of exotic fruit."

The girl, Zatanna, snorted at me and turned her back to me.

Getting a little desperate, I called out. "Where'd you even pick up a name like that?"

"My Dad gave it to me."

"Your Dad's an idiot."

_That_ got her attention. Zatanna whirled around, face turning a bright shade of crimson. Her shoulders trembled slightly and she gritted her teeth to keep from completely losing it. I cringed, knowing that my genius plan may have just backfired on me.

"Don't you _ever_ say that about my father..." Her voice rose higher until she was practically screaming.

_Oh well..._ I thought. _I've already dug myself a grave. Might as well bury myself in it._

"_Woah_!" I grinned like a maniac. "_Someone's_ got some daddy issues!"

"Listen here you little..." She spoke through her teeth, curling and uncurling her hands.

Unfortunatly, I never got to find out what she was going to call me, because the back door was suddenly exploded open. Shouting and curses erupted from it, followed closely by Ivy's hired morons. The men howled like a pack of wolves, waving the weapons in the air as they charged.

"For the record..." I glared up at Zatanna. "I blame you for this."

"_Me?_" She shouted indignantly. "What'd _I_ do?"

"Oh, nothing, aside from screaming so loud they could hear you all the way in _China_." I growled, frying the vines around my hands and ankles and staggering to my feet.

Zatanna looked at me funny, and I grinned. "That's right, magic girl, I could've gotten free at any second."

"You..." She began, anger clawing it's way into her voice.

One of the thugs swung their baceball bat at me. I ducked, watching the bat swing over my head and into Zatanna's ribs. She hissed in pain, raising her palm to gang of men and babbling nonsense. They stumbled, prying at the grass that had begun to wear around their boots. I sniggered at them, laughing at how stupid they looked.

And then my mind caught up with the rest of my body had told me that, in Zatanna's eyes, I was the 'enemy' too. And, unlike them, she had a personal grudge against me. I turned just in time to see a tree branch hurdling towards me. I cursed and dodged to the right, landing stomach-first on the grass with s soft _thud_. Zatanna started babbling again, and instinctively I knew that I had to shut her the hell up or I was going to lose this fights. I growled, hooking my leg under Zatanna's and knocking her off her feet.

She landed hard, smashing her head on a nearby rock. She groaned, gently touching the wound with one gloved hand. She pulled it away, staring uncomprehendingly at the streak of scarlet that stained her hand.

"Lae..." She began, scowling as her mind cleared.

I lunged, clamping both hands over her mouth. She screamed behind my hands, furious, and tried up kick me away. I pulled away one hand, reaching into Robin's belt and pawing around for something I could use. My fingers touched something: a flat, sharp-edged, piece of metal. I smiled, hiding the batarang in my sleeve. My hand returned to her mouth, pretending like I hadn't found what I was looking for and tried to keep Zatanna from wiggling free.

She bucked, somehow getting her knee high enough to aim a blow at my stomach. I smiled against the pain, bringing my hand to Zatanna's throat and pressing the sharp edge against her jugular. She froze, trying to see what I was doing.

"Every good villain carries a knife." I lied through my teeth, smirking at her.

"I don't want this to get messy, so I suggest you.." I wasn't sure how I was going to finish that sentence, and I never got the chance to figure it out.

Something barreled into me, throwing my body into the trees behind us. I hit hard, body curling around the tree on impact and sliding lifelessly to the ground. I clutched my head and painstaking turned on my side, just in time to see Zatanna being pulled to her feet by Mr. Goody Two-Shoes himself. You may know him as the Boy Blunder, Robin.

I stood, ducking behind the tree to recover and spy on pair of superheroes. Robin put a hand on Zatanna's shoulder, steadying her as she struggled to gather her bearings. A stab of hatred and jealously ran through me. As did a new, unexpected emotion: overwhelming pity.

I wondered if she knew that Robin's 'compassion' was nothing but an act. That's what he did. He took advantage of people when they were weak and vulnerable, pretending like he was such a good guy and giving you emotional support and then - BAM - he breaks your heart and kicks you to the curb. My eyes softened as I looked at them. Poor kid..so naive.

"Are you okay?" Robin asked, concerned.

"Y-yeah..." She said shakily. "Just... Gimme a second."

Zatanna stepped away from him, taking a deep breath.

"Laeh em." She mumbled, and instantly a healthy glow returned to her cheeks.

"Where'd that girl go?" She asked, turning to him.

"Electrolyte? I don't know, maybe she..."

Not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation, I backed up into the woods and disappeared. Dodging trees and fallen logs, I mentally berated myself for messing up and botching the plan. I'd have to find somewhere to hide, and rethink my strategy. Either that or I start walking, maybe I'll find my way out of Gotham by next Christmas.

I stopped, leaning against a tree and panting like a dog. I seriously needed to start working out on my own or something because obviously Ivy's training has _not_ helped me. Wiping the sweat off my face with the front of my shirt, I laid my forehead against my arm and tried to slow my heartbeat.

_Snap_.

My head jerked up instantly. I turned, slowly, to the source of the sound. My heart leaped up into my throat, blocking my airways. I swallowed it painfully, forcing my features up into cold indifference as I regarded the person that stood in front of me.

"Quinn." She smiled coldly.

I stiffened, sneered.

"Rebecca."

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><p>Hey everyone, the other day I was watching Young Justice and I realized that every time I featured the team in this story, I had left out Zatanna. So I decided to bring her in now as a convenient way to show how misguided Quinn is. Robin is not some evil force driven by anger and hate to ruin people's lives, but Quinn would argue otherwise. I'm not sure how clear that was in the actual chaper, so...yeah.<p>

Random: Roy's eyes...and Robin's...In Performance...O_O Oh, and was I the only one thinking that the boy's outfits were a little skimpy? I mean, so not complaining but...*shrugs*


	12. Killing Quinn Mallory

**Hey, guys, I just finished writing an insanely long writing assignment and now I am writing more. There's something seriously wrong with me.**

**Also, I've found out that I ship AquaRocket (Aqualad and Rocket) like a freaking crazy person. Not as much as Spitfire, which will forever be my OTP, but...I've been obsessing over them for days. It's really weird too...like, at first I thought it was sorta cute but I didn't think much of it. Then about an hour or so later I was sitting at the kitchen table and doing homework and out of nowhere I was like "I SHIP AQUAROCKET SO FREAKIN HARD!"**

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><p>I narrowed my eyes at my sister, tensing my muscles in anticipation for a battle. Rebecca chuckled, clearly amused, and took another step towards me. Her arms were spread wide, as if to give me a hug, Land she flashed me a sisterly smile.<p>

I didn't buy it for one second.

"Well Quinn..." She smirked, taking in my ripped costume and messy hair.

"You've dug yourself quite a grave here, haven't you?"

I took another step away from my sister, bumping into the tree behind me. I had nowhere to run, Rebecca knew that as well as I did. But I was a metahuman, she was just a normal, powerless woman. I could take her. Didn't Rebecca see that? Unless...

My hands balled themselves into fists.

Unless she thinks that she has the upper hand. And knowing Rebecca as well as I do, she probably did come to this little family reunion armed with something to hold over my head. The question is...what? My parents are gone, my sister's a traitor, and I've got a bunch of irritated heroes on my tail. What else do I have to lose?

"Just stay away from me Rebecca..." I snarled, struggling to keep my breathing even.

"What, scared of your own sister?" She smirked.

"I'm not scared of anyone." I retorted, lying through my teeth.

"You can relax, Quinn." She laughed, reaching out to tweak the end of my nose.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

I slapped her hand away, furious.

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"Just to talk."

She turned on her heel, waltzing over to a fallen log and taking a seat. I just stared at her, eying her warily. It always amazed me that Rebecca could be slopping pigs and still look like a princess. But right now her elegance seemed deadly, like how a tiger seems noble and beautiful right before it pounced on you and turns your innards into hamburger meat.

I was treating her like a hungry tiger too. I kept her at arms length, staying tensed in case she suddenly strikes out at me.

"Well? Any questions for your big sister?"

"Let's start with why you're not dead." I scowled.

Her smile faded, but only a little. I wanted to believe that it was just my imagination, but I had seen the amusement run out of her eyes when those particular words left my mouth.

"Let's just say I wasn't exactly _in_ the apartment when the fire started."

"Not good enough..." I snapped. "I want to know _why."_

Rebecca signed dramatically, examining one manicured nail as if this whom affair bored her to tears.

"You know that I was part of an independent study program in high school, right?"

I nodded slowly. Mom and Dad had told me that story countless times, usually after I did something wrong. They never missed an opportunity to brag about Rebecca's accomplishments. I know they loved me, but it always seemed like Rebecca was the only one that could make them proud.

"Well..." She grinned. "Our little group did a whole lot more than _study_."

"Stop with the vague answers and just _tell me what's going on!_" The last part came out a little more desperate than I wanted it to.

"Fine." She huffed. "Way to spoil the fun, Quinn."

I just glared.

"My peers and I merely masqueraded as a study group to fool our teachers and anyone else that would try to poke their noses in our business. You see, little sister, we were part of a select few deemed worthy to take part in an experiment dedicated to the study of metahuman genetics. We worked closely with an organization called project Cadmus, I..."

"Metahumans?" I blinked, interrupting her. "You mean like...superheroes?"

"Exactly." She gave a quick nod.

"They're the only known subspecies of Homo Sapiens. Scientists have so many unaswered questions about them. Are their powers are result of an extra gene not found in regular humans? Some sort of genetic defect? A mutation? Or maybe these 'powers' have varying origins? No one knows, and they heroes won't just flat out and _tell_ you so we've been forced to take slightly more _drastic_ means of getting answers."

"No way this was legal..." I narrowed my eyes.

"Quite against the law, actually," She shrugged. "But you're not really one to talk, Quinn darling."

I gritted my teeth but said nothing more.

"I was put in charge of a certain project that dealt with studying the DNA of a superhero and deciding whether or not the sequence could be replicated. Since we were just a bunch of teenagers, I doubt anyone else thought that we'd be able to do it. It was just...busywork."

Rebecca sounded almost bitter for a moment, but it quickly passed.

"Indeed, it took me quite awhile to figure it out. I graduated high school, moved out of the house and into my own apartment. Due to parents' insistence, I also enrolled in college. I worked for years, balancing all this plus my day job and our family's steadily declining financial standing, and then..."

Rebecca paused to gather herself, plastering a wide grin in her face.

"I succeded. It wasn't easy, mind you. Many of my colleague's dropped out of the program when they decided the price for scientific research was far too high. Then of course there was the obvious problem of being treated as a silly girl with her head in the clouds...but I did it. Then I got clearance to test it..."

She sighed. "I checked myself and the other scientists, but none of us were good candidates. We concluded that our test subject should be someone young, so that the process would take. I immediately thought of you."

My throat closed up. So that was it, I was nothing but a glorified lab rat. I'd suspected it would be something like this, but it didn't stop me from feeling nauseous. I clutched my stomach, wishing I could just go behind a bush and puke up everything in my stomach.

"You were about two at the time. I brought you in, they ran some tests, and we began experimenting. We got good results, very good results. Your DNA merged with the metahuman gene, instead of rejecting it like we feared it would. We used radiation poisoning to ensure that it would activate the moment you reached puberty. You were a tad later than we expected, but our data concluded that it was merely a side affect from the process."

"Radiation poisoning? That sounds... painful." I winced.

"Oh, it was. You screamed bloody murder everytime we strapped you down. We put you under for the duration of the process, of course, and gave you pain medication afterwards. But it definitely put a lot of strain on you."

"How come I don't remember any of this?"

"We have ways of making people forget, like we did to all the people who defected from our cause. But you did remember some things from the procedure. Vague perhaps, but you remembered. You had nightmares for months, flashbacks from your time in the lab. Mom and Dad blamed it on the fever."

"All those times I was sick as a kid..." I mumbled.

"A result of the radiation poisoning. We thoughts we were going to lose you a couple times, but you pulled through. Although it wasn't as if we couldn't replace you if you did happen to pass, we had a list of infants that also qualified for the experiment."

She sounded proud, almost arrogant. It sickened me how easily she could talk about this. Kidnapping me, experimenting on me, purposely putting me in harm's way just because she could. I hated her, I hated her more than I'd ever hated anyone ever before.

"Why didn't you just use one of them in the first place?"

If only she's chosen one of them instead. Then their lives would be in constant turmoil, not mine. I know that's selfish, but what do you want me to think? Life sucks right now, and I don't see any way of making it better. Maybe it would've been better if I died in that fire too. Maybe it would've been better if I'd never lived at all.

"Having the subject of our experiment actually be related to one of the people working on it was an invaluable factor. It made it easy to monitor you and report on your progress. This advantage outweighed any other concerns."

Rebecca reached out and brushed my cheek.

"Re-Rebecca?" I croaked, flinching away from her fingers.

"What really happened...t-to Mom and Dad?"

She looked at me like I'd just gone a bit insane. "They died."

"In...In the fire?"

"Ah." She nodded.

"And now we've reached the real reason you're standing here listening to me when you clearly despise my very existence. Has this been bothering you?"

"No, I'm just freaking fine with it." I glared.

Ignoring my little comment, she stood and brushed off her pants and grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

"You want to know if the fire was your fault?"

In answer I narrowed my eyes.

She leaned forwards, cupping my cheek and brought her mouth close to my ear.

"The fire wasn't your fault, Quinn. The lab predicted that your powers would manifest themselves as electrokinesis, so we set up a small explosive device under the kitchen floorboards set up to detonate when it detected an unusually high electrolyte count in the air. The fact that you spilled the can of gasoline our people planted there to make it look like arson was just a stroke of good luck."

"Y-You killed Mom and Dad?" I blanched.

"Indirectly, I suppose so."

I felt like I just got hit by a truck. I wanted to be happy because I wasn't a murderer, there wasn't any blood on my hands. But at the same time this new course of events was almost too much to handle. My sister, my wonderful, funny sister, had killed my - _our_ - parents. And what's worse, she didn't even seem to care. I was suddenly hit by a wave of depression. As if my life wasn't bad enough, now I get to deal with this.

"We hypothesized that forcing you to experience the trauma of losing one's family would be beneficial to the program. We thought that keeping you in a constant state of distress would make you easier to manage. We placed Stryker in Arkham to keep tabs on you, and then young miss Alice in that boarding school. We had a number of other characters helping push you in the right direction. Policemen, bus drivers, you name it. We were in control of the situation the whole time."

"B-But I don't understand. There was no way you'd be able to anticipate..."

"Wrong again, baby sis. That's one of your best traits, you're so predictable it's practically laughable. We had a list of possible choices you could make and covered every one. The League was an unexpected veritable, but you handled that quite nicely for us."

She cocked her head. "Did you not find it odd? That the police never caught you, or that you were simply _shipped_ into Arkham without a hitch? That's not how the law works, Quinnie, but...Robin told you that didn't he? Of course you didn't believe him, especially after we hacked the Justice Kiddies' frequency and made them think you had somehow enthralled Robin and Batman gave them an order to attack."

"You were watching me the whole time. Everything that happened...was because of you." I breathed, still in a state of awe.

"Yes. We thought that making it seem that you were willingly making the decision to join us would be better for the project. We won't make that mistake again."

"A-Again?"

"Of course. You, my dear baby sister, are only the first. We've decided to call you Project GRAY. Genetically Refined Adolescent Youths. Don't you like the way it rolls off the tongue? Of course we'll have to conduct more research, but I believe it's possible."

Her face hardened. "Which is why, Quinn, you must return to the lab for further study."

The world spun slightly, and I knew that if the situation was different I probably would've fainted.

"N-no." I shook my head.

Rebecca was silent for a moment. "What?"

"No." I stood up a little straighter. "I'm not going with you."

Rebecca looked surprised, as if my refusal was the most shocking thing she's ever heard.

"What's wrong, Rebecca?" I sneered. "Did the lab not _predict_ that?"

"You have no choice." She hissed. "The police are looking for you..the League has a bounty on your head..."

"I'd rather die in prison than live as your lab rat." I growled.

"Quinn..." She gripped my shoulder.

My arm tensed and before I knew what was going on my fist, charged with electricity, connected with Rebecca's jaw and knocked her completely off her feet. She landed in a unconscious heap, her body sprawled out awkwardly in the grass.

As I was standing over her and tried to figure out what to do with her, Zatanna and the Boy Blunder exploded from behind a grove of trees and struck some rather 'heroic' poses. I groaned, smacking myself in the forehead and briefly shutting my eyes. Those two idiots has the absolute _worst_ timing. A supposed psychopath standing over an unconscious young woman does not look good, under any circumstances. A part of me knew that this little game of cat and mouse would never end, that it would continue until the day that I died.

Robin blinked at her, and then glanced at me questioningly. Obviously, Jerkface does his homework when it comes to legally insane teenagers and knew that she was my sister. His annoying companion however started screaming unintelligible nonsense and sent a fallen log sailing towards my head. Rolling my eyes, I dodged out of the way and watched the log take out another one of Ivy's trees. Scowling, I clambered back to my feet and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Hey, Hermione, mind keeping your temper in check? You nearly took my head off!"

"That was the general idea, _sparky_." She spat.

"Hey, cool it, both of you." Robin interjected, raising his hands like a referee.

"Don't act like you fucking care!" I hissed.

Robin turned towards me, eyes narrowed, and Zatanna reached out and gently touched his shoulder.

_Oh, she's got that frail flower routine down_. I shook my head.

_But, and least the whole 'Robtanna' thing will be easy to exploit._

"Aw, isn't that just the _cutest_ thing. Too bad he does that with _all_ the girls." I scoffed.

"You just _had_ to ruin the moment." She hurled a chuck of rock at me along with a string of random sounds.

I ducked and extended my right arm towards her and smiled as the current ran through my fingertips. Zatanna dodged, but I easily countered with a well-placed lightning bolt. It struck at her feet, blowing her sideways into a redwood.

"Electrolyte: One, Heroes: Zero." I smirked, turning towards the Boy Wonder.

Robin rushed me. He aimed a blow at my head, wisely leaving his staff collapsed inside his obviously new utility belt. I dropped into a crouch, avoiding the punch, and swept his legs out from under him. Frustrated, he sprung to his feet and launched himself at me while I was still knelt on the ground. I was blown onto my back, almost cracking my head on a rock.

Robin crawled on top of me, pinning my heads above my head on the ground and using his knees to pin my legs down. I could tell by the way he wasn't screaming in pain that Batman must've shock-proofed his costume before he let the little bird out for the night.

"You know." I smirked. "If someone cut in right now this wouldn't look so good for you, would it?"

"You're disgusting." He winced.

"And I know it, friend." I laughed, watching Zatanna slowly stagger back to her feet out of the corner of my eye.

"And this, Birdbrain, is the part where I completely ruin your love life."

"Wha...?" He stuttered.

Robin quickly got caught off by the sudden pressure of my lips against his. I let my eyebrows sag, it was my first kiss after all, but I couldn't let my guard down. To any one besides me, my actions may seem odd. After all, I honestly did despise Robin's personality. But physically...well, he wasn't awful.

The best part though - the very _best_ part - was the fact that he didn't pull away. He just laid there and accepted the kiss. After a moment or so he even began to reciprocate. His body relaxed, instantly easing the pressure on my limbs. And the look on Zatanna's face? _Absolutely priceless_. I sighed inwardly, knowing that I couldn't lay there and play with Batbrat all day. I broke the kiss, smirked at him, then moved my knee downwards and took the cheap shot.

He doubled over, groaning, and I took the opportunity to shove him off and roll to the side. Zatanna lunged at me, but she was still recovering from our fight earlier and her reaction time was slowed. I swung my leg around and nailed her in the ribs, watching her crumble.

"You are a horrible human being, you know that?" Robin growled, still lying hunched over on the ground.

"Know it and am proud of it, Chuckles."

"I...wish you were dead." Zatanna growled, nursing her injured ribs.

I knew that they were simply the meaningless words of a jealous freak, but they still cut pretty deep. But they did give me an idea...maybe it would makes things better. At least the League and the 'lab' Rebecca kept talking about would stop hunting me.

"You want me dead, huh? Well, I guess that makes two of us." I sighed, my words sounding more depressed than I meant them.

Not waiting for a response, I took off. I knew what I had to do. I dodged trees and kept casting quick glances behind me to make sure that the two brat heroes weren't following me. If I got caught they'd try to stop me. When I finally found what I was looking for skidded to a stop, I stood on the very edge of the lake that I crashed the Batmobile in. I looked down at the crystal blue water and jagged rocks below, knowing full well that a fall from here would kill me.

I took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly.

When I became Electrolyte, I said that I was figuratively killing Quinn Mallory.

Maybe now it was time to do it for real.

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><p><strong>Don't worry guys, it's not over yet. Just taking a different path. Now...would I really kill Quinn? Maybe...not saying anything yet. <strong>

**Random: Okay, where the heck was Aqualad during Performance? Was he helping Aquaman? Was he visiting home? Was he having a secret meeting with his evil father to discuss betraying his team? (I like the last one:D) I DEMAND AN ANSWER...and I'm not gonna get one.**

**Okay, I'm super tired and going to sleep now. Bye!**


	13. Pyromania

I'm really tired, so why am I typing? I don't understand me...

Review, please.

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><p>All I had to do was jump.<p>

I looked down at the water lapping gently at the banks, knowing full well that the boulders surrounding the lake would smash me into a bloody pulp. I shut my eyes against the world, attempting to compose myself. I only had to step over the edge and it would be all over.

I shook my head, backing away from the edge. Not today. Not ever. I couldn't let them win. I couldn't let them beat me. No one would ever be turned into a Project GRAY ever again. I was going to make them pay, and whatever happens after...

Well, it'll happen.

I reached into my, or rather Robin's, belt and pulled out an explosive. I wasn't going to die today, but no one had to know that. I took the top off the device, smiled softly, and threw the explosive at a tree. It blew up on contact, setting the leaves and bark of the redwood ablaze. The fire sprang to the tree next to it, engulfing it in flames as well.

I blinked at the flames, surprised at how quickly the fire spread. I could already feel the heat against my face; in a few moments it would become too intense for me. I turned and ran in the opposite direction, towards Ivy's complex. I raced against the flames, arms and legs pumping and panting with exertion. I knew I should've been terrified of the fire, but somehow knowing that it wasn't my fault doused any fear I used to have. Now I felt connected with the inferno, the fire's need for destruction feeling very akin to my own need for revenge.

I threw a few more explosives, giggling like a small child. Huge fireballs exploded in the tree tops, the rich green leaves sending off a lot of smoke. The burning branches cracked and popped as the flames swallowed them up.

"Freeze!" A voice screeched behind me.

I smirked, pivoting around on my heel and chuckling softly. "In this heat? Not likely."

Two figures, illuminated by firelight, stood before me. Their faces were smudged with soot and ash dusted their hair. They were both sweating, and I thought I saw a strand of Zatanna's hair start to smolder but she quickly clapped a gloved hand over the smoking lock of hair and smothered it.

"Enough games, Mallory." Zatanna coughed, shielding her face against the smoke with her arm.

"Games?" I chuckled. "Trust me, friend, this is no game."

"You think this is funny?" Robin growled, disgusted.

"Maybe a little..." I grinned, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"You...You..." Zatanna was so mad she couldn't even form a proper sentence.

"...Zee?" Robin frowned, gently gripping her forearm.

She ripped away from him, eyes locking onto me like twin lasers. She was too angry to listen to Robin, or to even care. Rage is an empty, useless emotion. The only thing that truly matters is the ability to launch into action and do what needs to be done. Zatanna was far too weak to be capable of that, but not me.

I'm prepared to do anything, everything, as long as I get what I want.

I raised my fist and waved an explosive in the air as if it were a flag. The two heroes tensed, watching me with suspicious eyes. I threw the bomb over their heads and waiting until they turned to asses the damage. I quickly ripped an explosive from my belt and hurled it at their feet. I was planning to aim the bomb at the person I wanted dead the most but...Honestly, I couldn't work out in my head who I hated more.

Zatanna leaped to the right, Robin dodged left. A flaming tree toppled to the ground in front of him, momentarily obscuring him from view. Zatanna glared at me, making smoking branched hurl themselves at me. They were easily deflected with an electric pulse, which made Zatanna even angrier.

"Burn, Witch Bitch, burn!" I laughed.

I heard angry shouting puncuated by a pain-filled scream, and then all was silent. I turned, narrowly avoided a fireball, and pressed on. The fire was started to get out of hand, I knew I had to hurry. I might have been overcome by the need for revenge, but I wasn't stupid. I found myself in front of Ivy's snug little home, grinning broadly. Ivy's face appeared in front of mine, somehow managing to cough up smoke and glare at me at the same time.

"What's...what's wrong with you?" She spat. "You're going to get us all killed!"

"Us?" I smirked.

"You, me, my colleagues..." Her shoulders trembled with rage.

I pointed upwards, prompting Ivy to glance towards the sky. I chuckled, knowing without looking what she was seeing. It shocked her, evident by the way her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open. The sound of propellers slicing through air reached my ears.

"I noticed that your chopper was missing on the way over here. I just assumed you were on it. I didn't really give it much thought, seeing as I was otherwise occupied." My grin broadened - taking in her horrified expression - and I continued.

"Your 'colleagues' will be absolutely fine. For now. When I track them down and make them pay for their part in creating me...Well, that's another story. Right now I'd be more worried about yourself. Too much heat can fry plants, you know."

"Y-You'll die too!"

"Your concern is touching." I dipped my head to the left. "But completely unnecessary..."

"You're bluffing!"

"I'm not." I shook my head, pulling a small whistle from my pocket and pressing it to my lips. A shrill sound pierced the air and the bushes outside my house rustled. A huge object, about the same size of a small pony appeared in front of me. The creature nudged its massive rose-shaped head into my side, and I reached over and gave it a scratch behind the blossom.

"Is that...?" She pointed.

"The little rose you gave me all grown up? Yeah." I nodded and gave the plant creature another head pat.

"I found this little cutie about a month ago. Figured I'd keep her around, teach her a few tricks." I reached into the petals and dug around, peeling off a thin disk of metal and holding it up for Ivy to see.

"And you planted a tracker inside it. Figures." I shook my head, throwing it at her feet.

I whistled three times, turning towards the plant monster. She made some incoherent plant-noises and wrapped her tendrils around my skinny frame, creating a sort of harness. Ivy just stood their, mouth agap. She managed to stutter out a few empty threats, but I wasnt paying attention to her anymore. I was focused on the plant, who nuzzled against my stomach and made a sound that was almost like purring.

"Bye, bye, Ivy. I'd like to say it was nice knowing you...but it wasn't."

With that, the plant dug in its roots and hoisted me up into the sky. I had a perfect view whole forest, acres of burning trees and smoke. I could just make out Gotham when I squinted, my eyes just making out the glowing lights of a city. My rose ripped her roots free and started leaping over the treetops, barely touching the ground with her tendrils. I bounced up and down, whooping with joy and feeling like I was going to puke.

I happened to glance up and saw something swooping towards me, a giant black outline in the sky shaped like a bat. I cursed under my breath and told my flower to watch out, but to not attack. With or without my plant monster, I wouldn't be able to fight off a massive aircraft like that. I caught a glance of the craft's occupance, a hulking figure in black leather and two teenagers. Part of me was surprised that Batbreath got another Batplane so fast, and another part of me was upset that Zatanna and Robin didn't die in the fire like I'd hoped they would. I also noticed that they'd reach Ivy before the flames did, which put another huge damper on my mood. Zatanna saw me and pounded her fists against the glass, but Batman didn't stop or even pause to look my way. Obviously, the fire was their first priority, not me. I laughed openly, the look on Zatanna's face was absolutely priceless.

"Oh, well, can't win 'em all, right?" I asked my plant beast, not expecting an answer.

"Okay, baby, let's head to Gotham and show the world what we're really made of." I laughed, and I swore the plant did too.

We glided over the smoldering canopies, the rose plant hissing in pain as the flames licked at her delicate skin and me laughing hysterically and murmuring calming words to my new pet. I got a nasty jolt when my plant gave a enormous heave and settled her roots down in the middle of a busy street. Cars screeched to a halt and a few people laid on the horns. One guy rolled down his window and shook his fist at me, which was a really weird move considering I was riding a gigantic plant beast with razor-sharp teeth.

I patted the monster, and she uncurled her vines and allowed me to step onto the pavement and beam at the assembled citiens of Gotham City. The man who shook his fist stopped, rolled up the window, and locked all the doors as if that would make a difference. I cracked my knuckles and gave my monstrous pet a quick pat, whispering a small order to her.

She roared, raising her vines and slamming them against the street creating a small crater. She rose to full height and grabbed the car the skaking-fist man was cowering in, pulling it into the air and throwing it across the street. Screaming filled the air, followed quickly by the sound of screeching tires as the citizens tried to get away. I scoffed, amused at their pathetic attempts to escape. I raised my fist and let out a small electric pulse to disable the cars' engines, laughing when I saw the panic in their eyes.

"Who...who are you?" A terrified jogger stuttered.

I smiled cruelly.

"My name is Electrolyte..."

"And I'm about to show the world that nobody messes with me and gets away with it."

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><p>Ohhhkay. Watching NCIS and finishing this up. As always, I ended it on a cliffhanger.<p>

Random: SPOILERS. Where...where is Artemis? And Wally? And Aqualad and Roy and Clone!Roy and...I'm so confused.


	14. Accomplice

Well, guys, I just has a long day of finals and I'm exhausted. I've been recovering by watching X-Men Evo and X-Men TAS, you know - the classics.

Sorry for delay, there was finals and major writer's block and my friend's new Batman RP she set up...been busy. :(

Also, if the DC character I'm going to include in this chapter is a little off, there's a reason for it. For now, if you don't like the fact that I portrayed him/her as a villian...well, like I said: Just wait.

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><p>I sighed and leaned casually against the railing. The breeze ruffled my hair, which I had redied black with purple highlights. It was longer now, the ends trailing just past my jawline. I pushed a lock of it away from my forehead and looked down at the flood of vehicles racing past the skyscraper.<p>

After I'd demolished half of Gotham four months ago, I had taken to the road and finally landed in a neat little city called Blüdhaven. The place has a worse reputation than Gotham, but I find it kind of cozy. Despite multiple threats and a failed assassination attempt, I managed to set up a small crime syndicate filled with homeless kids and juvenile punks, the oldest kid being about fifteen. No one doubted my authority. No one that valued their right to breath, that is. I was using most of my little enforces to try and find leads on Project GRAY, and my favorite bald CEO that took a sudden leave of absence. We hadn't found anything yet, but I kept an open mind. Besides, it wasn't as if I could expect much from a bunch of snot-nosed brats.

There was also another change in my life, a more...permanent one than my little crime organization. I'd hoped to leave my life with Ivy behind, but the vaccine Ivy gave me once a month to keep the toxic dump we lived on from melting the skin right off my bones had a rather unusual side-affect. My eyes were now a rich shade of purple, which matched ths highlights in my hair quite nicely.

After awhile, I became bored in my hideout. The eager-to-please girls and boys I had taken in started to annoy me. So now, to keep from electrocuting one of my new associates, I've been taking weekly trips to neighboring cities to cause trouble and relieve some stress. Today I decided to prowl through Gotham, which most psychological profilers would agree was a bit nervy for me. That was one of my favorite things to do: shake up my routine so no one can make a concrete profile for me. One of the worst things a criminal can be is unpredictable.

I looked over at the rich CEO I chosen to abduct this week. I snatched him out of his office while his colleagues were on lunch break. I bound and gagged him, all the while telling him he deserved it for being a workaholic and left him struggling and red-faced on the roof while I admired the view. After awhile, I'd knocked him out. All the screaming and struggling was starting to annoy me.

"Abducting Lucius Fox in the middle of the afternoon? I'll hand it to ya, girl, you got guts."

I spun around, alarmed and angry at being snuck up on. My fury quickly dissipated as I took in the lithe figure standing a few feet away from me, arms crossed and grinning broadly. It was a girl, about my age with snowy white hair and blue eyes. She didn't look particularly threatening, except for the two _very_ large swords strapped to her back. I got the feeling that she could kill me if she wanted, but for some reason she has decided to keep the swords sheathed.

I was very interested to find out why.

"I like operating in broad daylight. People take more notice of you that way." I said, carefully gauging my response.

"Point taken." She conceded, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"I'm Electrolyte." I thrust a hand out to her.

She took it, albeit reluctantly. "Ravager. I've heard a lot about you."

"Anything good?" I smiled.

"Nope."

I shrugged. "I'm guessing this isn't a social call?"

"I've heard you're out to get Lex Luthor..." She trailed off.

I had to fight to keep the smirk off my face. She didn't know a thing about how I work, so she was giving me little clues to steer me in the direction she wanted me. Oh, no doubt she's heard all the usual gossip, but that mindless babble is unreliable at best.

"He isn't exactly one of my favorite people, why do you ask?"

"That," She said, eying me up and down. "Is an excellent question."

"Look," I said, rubbing my temple.

"I really wish I could stand here chatting all day, but I'm kind of a wanted criminal so...I'm going to have to ask you to get to the point."

"You have people you want gone." She narrowed her eyes. "And so do I."

"Do you have anyone specific?" I asked, instantly intrigued.

"Ever hear of someone named Slade Wilson?"

"Deathstroke the Terminator? Yeah, I've heard of him." I smiled. "Guy's a legend."

Her eyes darkened, as if I had just said something wrong, but the moment quickly passed.

"Yeah, him."

"I want to find the people who did _this_," I raised my hand and let an electric blue alarm dance through my fingers.

"I want to find them, and I want to make them pay."

"Then I believe we can help each other." Ravager smirked.

"What makes you think I want your help?" I snapped.

Ravager's smile faded and was replaced with a scowl. "Are you _kidding_ me, girl? Just _look_at you!"

I seriously thought about launching the annoying little twit off the side of the building, but I managed to control myself. "Be careful of what you say to me, Ravager."

"You know I'm right." She said, increasing her chances at an early death tremedously.

"Think about it for once. What, exactly, is your plan here? To set up a crime ring full of disloyal _chilldren? _You want to get results, then get off your lazy ass and get something _done_."

"You aren't doing a very good job of persuading me." I frowned, feeling little bolts of electricity dance over my fingertips.

"So unless you'd like to be barbecue, I'll be leaving now."

I looked up and whistled for my plant-monster, who I named Matilda. She landed beside me, nudging my boot and pulling on my pant leg. She didn't like being in Gotham, especially during the day. I think she was worried about me, which was an adorable notion in and if itself.

I grabbed one of her vines and prepared for the moment when Matilda would grab ahold of me and carry me away from the building, Ravager, and my still-struggling captive. Ragaver's eyes widened, obviously not expecting me to just cut and run. Like I said, I like staying unpredictable.

"Wait!" She shouted, eyes darting back and forth desperately.

I smiled, Ravager was just _too_ easy to manipulate. "Yes?"

"I'll just cut to the chase. You want revenge, and so do I. I don't know where my guy is, but I may know something about yours." Ravager crossed her arms.

"Actually, it's multiple guys." I said. "And I already know where one of them is. So, really, your 'information' is becoming more and more redundant even as we speak."

"Lex Luthor?" She guessed. "Sure, you know where he is, but that's not the same thing as knowing what he's doing. And besides...If I'm right about you, you won't settle for just killing Luthor. You want to hit him where it hurts, and then snuff him out slowly and painfully."

"The idea of humiliating Luthor is enticing." I smiled. "And the more pain he feels...the better."

"I know all about Project GRAY." She continued. "I have proof. If anyone in the media gets a hold of that, Luthor's reputation will be shattered. They'll send in a freaking SWAT team to collect him, and after that...Well, the police's ability of keeping track of villians is horrible, as you know."

"But that also presents a problem." I mused.

"What?"

"The League has been trying to nab Luthor for years. If I take him down, they'll throw a freaking party."

Ravager glared. "Your're going to pass up an opportunity to take him down because you don't want to accidently help out the League?"

"Yes, you summarized my intentions perfectly." I smirked.

Ravager stood there, silently fuming. She was exhibiting a huge amount of self-control by preventing herself from killing me, but I wasn't fooled in the slightest. She wanted something from me. Maybe it was as she said and she wanted help getting rid of Deathstroke. Maybe she was lying and there was an ulterior motive to her actions. Either way, it'll be ridiculously fun to mess with the girl's head.

"So, I guess the real question is: what _are_ we going to do?" I mused.

"So you do want my help?" Ravager asked. "Because it's really hard to tell when you change your mind."

"I didn't change my mind." I chuckled. "I hadn't made up my mind in the first place."

"You're...different."

"Eh, I've been called worse." I shrugged.

"But, before we work on your issues, I want to see what dirt you got on Project GRAY. After all, how can I kill Deathstroke when I know that my new partner is keeping secrets?"

Ravager looked at me as if deciding whether or not I was insane. Apparently, whatever she decided didn't mater much since she gave me a guarded smile and pulled a manilla envelope from the insider of her jacket. Wordlessly, she passed it to me. There, written in black sharpie, were the words 'PROJECT GRAY.'

I opened it, feeling a lot like a little child opening her Christmas presents, and pulled out a sheaf of medical records and the notes of the scientists who worked on Project GRAY. I flipped through them, sneering every time I saw my sister's name, before I came across something I recognized. It was a picture of a vial filled with blue liquid. It was paper clipped to a report detailing the vial's contents, which was rather unnecessary since I already knew what it was.

"See this?" I held up the picture to Ravager.

She looked at it and nodded, slowly.

"This vial was found in an underground lab owned by Gorilla Grodd by the Flash four years ago. I guess the monkey is in on Project GRAY too, or at least he's helping them out. Point is, I've seen this vial before. If I could get my hands on it...I may be able to supercharge my meta abilities. I don't know for sure, but..." I broke out into a fit of giggles. "Oh man, this is just so _freaking_ good."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, where is it?" Ravager took the paper from me, smiling broadly.

I laughed, feeling better than I had in awhile. "It is in what could be concidered the least secure place in Washington DC."

"I'm not following you." Ravager narrowed her eyes.

I smiled. "Ravager, the vial is on display in the Hall of Justice."

* * *

><p>Again, sorry for the delay. Blame Robin, that's what Quinn does :)<p>

Also, I'm going to say right now that Ravager isn't what she seems. Neither is Quinn, but I you know anything about Ravager you know she's pretty clever, so...

Random: Dude... Wally's freckles are gone. Look at his face during Salvage, they're freaking GONE. O_o Also: Spitfire, Lian, CheshRoy, Blue Beetle character development, and Conner being all dark...HAZMHSBAHSNSNbsbsb$.:$$:$/$/$nsjzjbshan. MALFUNCTION!


	15. Infiltration

I've decided to play around with Electrolyte's magnetic powers a bit in this chapter. I got the idea when my friend and I were watching X-Men Evolution and we were wondering how Magneto managed to levitate around. I suggested that his suit was metal, and the floors were metal, and they had opposite magnetic poles...never mind, you'll see what I mean in the story. And I'm just going to assume the Hall of Justice has metal floors, okay?

Also, I've decided that I'm not going to make this as long as I thought it'd be. Yay me! Or...boo me, depending on how you view it. I'm not sure when it'll be wrapped up, maybe in the next chapter or so, but...yeah, figured I'd warn you now.

So, my YJ Reviews was taken down. A little upset about that. I actually finished this chapter yesterday, but I couldn't post it because I was being punished ): review and make me feel better! :)

**Also, I've decided to write a sequel to my story Legend of the Commando. Just not sure how I'm gonna go about the plot. Any suggestions are welcome, because the story is still very much in the planning stages.**

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><p>There's nothing better than simply reveling in the act of being...<em>bad<em>.

I rubbed my hands together in anticipation, leaning forward on the wide arch of the Hall's dome-shaped roof. Ravager stood behind me, silently fuming and muttering profanities under her breath. I ignored her, choosing instead to focus on the adrenaline coursing through my veins and my rapidly increasing heartbeat. Matilda nuzzled my ribcage and purred in content when I reached around to scratch her...neck..stem..._thing_.

I reached into one of the packs I slung over the plant beast's back and pulled out a dead rat, wrapped tightly in several layers of plastic wrap. I unraveled the stinking thing, tossing the soiled wrapping on the roof. I made sure Ravager was watching before I threw the rat at Matilda's maw and watched, oddly fascinated, as the vermin disappeared down her gullet. Matilda licked the droplets of rat blood off my fingers and then used her sharp teeth to chew off my watch.

"Hey!" I cried indignantly. "Give it back!"

Matilda turned away from me, almost like she was being sassy. I growled in frustration and hurled myself at the her, climbing onto her back so I could reach her mouth. I pried Matilda's jaw open with my hands and reached around in her mouth, feeling around for the hunk of metal. Just as my hand closed around something about the size and shape of my watch, Ravager grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me off the plant, muttering something about psychotic idiots. I held up my watch in triumph, not caring that it was a little slimy from being inside Matilda's stomach.

"I got it!" I announced, grinning broadly.

"You're insane." Ravager spat.

"Yup." I chirped, pulling away from her. "What gave me away?"

"Well, you just tried to climb inside a _plant_." She said. "And you've dragged me on this doomed-to-fail escapade that no one with half a mind would even _consider_ attempting."

"Doomed to fail?" I frowned. "Sure, I spent more time pulling aphids off of my plant monster than I did preparing for this, but that doesn't necessarily mean..."

"Your lack of professionalism is _not_ the problem here." She hissed.

"Then what is?"

"Look, we all know the Hall is a joke..." Ravager snorted. "That's why no criminals _bother_ robbing it."

"Yeah?"

"So why are _you_ bothering?" She asked, joining me on the arch. "It's a huge risk..."

"That junk'll increase my powers, Rav." I grinned. "Think about what I'll be able to do then..."

"So you plan on... _nuking_ yourself?"

"That's the general idea."

"And you see no flaws whatsoever in your plan?"

"Nope. And I don't care, either, so..." I shrugged.

"You're...you're so..._ugh_!" Ravager fisted her bleach-blonde hair with both hands, clearly frustrated.

I checked my watch and smiled. There should be a guard change right about now, if the online blog about the Hall of Justice can be believed. Some of the information I found was a bit...sketchy. Most of it was so ridicoulous it was funny, especially the 'scandalous' crap. One word, kids: _Batflash_.

Giving Ravager a small grin I climbed over the edge of the Hall's roof, using my electric powers to magnetize myself to the front of the Hall. Ravager looked at me like I has just sprouted a second head while she pulled assorted cables and harnesses out of her pack she insisted we bring with us. I chuckled as the girl fumbled awkwardly with one of the straps. I almost felt sorry for her. I could crawl up and down on the walls like freaking _Spider-Man_, where as she was forced to rely on fancy gadgets and sneaky tricks to keep herself alive.

I turned away from Ravager and put all my focus on the skylight. Cutting would be too noisy, and it's not like I have anything on me that would slice cleanly through glass anyway. I would have to melt it instead. I pulled off one of my gloves with my teeth and pressed my open palm against the glass. The electricity running through my body heated the skylight until it began to glow red hot and softened considerably under my hand. I knew the glass wouldn't drip very fast, so I got it at a nice, high temperature and started pulling the stuff out of its pane in large clumps with my gloved hand. It was heat resistant, so I wouldn't burn myself. When the gap was large enough for me to squeeze through, I pulled my hands away and let the glass cool for a few moments before I started pulling myself through.

I fell through the gap, giggling madly as I plummeted back towards the ground. I quickly charged the metal flooring below me and changed the polarity in my magnetic field so that I came to an abrubt halt in mid-air, stuck between the pull of gravity and the push of the opposite pole. Slowly, I reverted the floor back to its normal state so the push on my body was gradually weakened until I landed gently on my feet.

I smiled, proud of my new trick. Until Ravager swooped in attached to a metal cable, accomplishing what took me at least five minutes to do in mere seconds, and landed beside me. The arrogant little gnat smirked at me, obviously feeling triumphant. I mumbled some dark words under my breath and let it go. She could be as overconfident as she wanted, as long as she was aware _I_ was in charge of our '_partnership_.'

"Quit playing around," I snapped. "Get to work before we get caught."

Ravager glared at me, but quickly moved to comply. Rolling my eyes at the annoyance, I went to explore in the opposite direction. I looked at some of the display cases, admiring the League's trophies while still searching for the vial. Every once in awhile I'd look around the room to see if any security the League employed had noticed that I was here.

The lack of activity concerned me more than I'd like to admit. I didn't think there would be hords of hired muscle or laser grids, but the extreme quiet was unnerving me. Maybe I was just paranoid, but...

"Ravager?" I called out.

No answer. Typical.

"I'll kill her later..." I promised myself before I turned back to the cases.

I spent the next five or six minutes poring over the junk accumulated by the League over the years. I always wondered why heroes feel the need to take trophies from the villians they take down, because it almost never works out for them. Maybe it's just me, but where's the logic in taking potential dangerous supervillian technology and placing it in the middle of a tourist trap? I'm surprised their hasn't been any casualties via explosives that some idiot hero thought looked 'cool.'

Lost in my mental ramblings, I didn't see the glass case standing proudly at the center of the room and almost tripped over it. The glass was thick, but it wasn't anything I could easily smash through if needed. Inside sat a vial or bluish liquid nestled on little red pillow with gold trimming on top of a marble pedistal. It seemed like a little too much decoration for a bottle of goo, but maybe that's just me. Excited, I pressed my face against the glass and let out a shrill squeal.

"Ravager! Get in here!" I shouted.

Silence.

"Ravager?" I pulled myself away from the case.

Not even a whisper.

I sighed in annoyance, quickly using my electricity to melt a hole in the glass case. I paused briefly, expecting an alarm to sound. When nothing happened I grabbed the vial, stuffed it into one of the compartments on my belt, and then scurried off to find Ravager.

"Does she even trust you?" A voice, obviously male, inquired. "Does she care about what happens to your well-being?"

"I can't tell." Another voice, Ravager, admitted. "But..."

The last part of the sentence was lost to my, but I was already suspicious. I hugged the wall beside me and slunk down the corridor. When I neared the source of the voices, I knelt on my heels and peeked my head around the corner. Ravager was there, awkwardly shifting in the hallway. The other person, I realized with a start, was the Boy Wonder himself.

Robin seemed calm and collected, not at all like someone who is facing off with a teenage villainess. He had a smal burn mark on his cheek, but besides that he didn't seem at all affected by the fire. I felt a little disappointed in myself. The least I could've done is left Robin with permanent facial damage...Eh, maybe I'll get lucky and the burn with scar over. The bigger problem was what my new 'friend' and Robin were saying. I leaned forward I'm an effort to see better...and slipped.

I fell forwards and landed on my stomach, creating a sound that echoed throughout the hallways. When I managed to scrape my face away from the marble floor, I found myself looking up at the sharp edge of a birdarang aimed at my face. Ravager stood behind Robin, blinking in surprise.

I kicked Robin's hand, sending the batarang flying, and then aimed two quick rabbit-punches to his abdomen. Robin bent over sightly in pain, giving me the opportunity to grab him by the cape and throw his body off to the side.

"If you're still on my side..." I growled to Ravager. "And if you value your worthless life, I suggest you help me. Get Matilda, _now_!"

Ravager scampered away to do my bidding. If it wasn't for the fact that Ravager hesitated before answering Robin's questions, I would've killed her where she stood. And I saw the look in Ravager's eyes when she was with Robin...she doubted him, she didn't trust him just as much as she didn't trust me. I was still mulling over whether or not to launch her out a window for not beating the boy senseless as soon as he revealed himself, though. Meh, I'll see how I feel after I get something to eat and take a nap.

"Still trying to woo every girl in sight, I see." I smiled Robin who has recovered enough to kneel on his hands and knees.

Robin just scowled at me and swept his leg around, trying to trip me up. I dodged the kick, but ended up landing funny and stumbled. Before I could get my balance back, Robin swung a knee up to my face.

I jumped back, but it was too little too late. Robin's leg extended completely, nailing me in the chest with enough force to knock me off my feet. Winded, I writhed around on the ground for a second before I felt Robin's boot come down hard on my chest. I looked around for a moment, expecting the Dark Knight to pop out of the shadows and grinned when I realized the bird was alone.

"So where's Batsy?" I asked. "Chilling out in the BatCave?"

"Shut up." He snapped.

"And what about your little sidekick friends? Did they abandon you too?"

"Shut. Up."

My smirk faded. I furrowed my eyebrows and examined the Boy Wonder's features closely. At first glance he appeared stoic, bored even. But when you looked deeper you could see that he was quietly seething. Robin's whole body was tense and the muscles in his face were strained. This kid wanted to kill me. What did I do that make him so...Oh, that's right. The fire.

"Did your little witch burn, Robbie?" I cooed. "Did she cry for you as she died?"

Robin's heel moved to my throat, constricting my air flow. I laughed, which came out more like a strangled squeak. I'd really out done myself this time. I had done this to him. I had made him Robin into a creature of hate. I wonder if Batman knows how far his little bird has sunk.

"Zatanna is fine." He growled. "Hospitalized, but fine."

"Damn." I croaked, twisting my features into a pout.

Robin snarled, moving his foot away from my body. Before I could sit up, however, Robin grabbed a hold of my shirt collar and slammed me up against the wall. The sudden change in position made me a little dizzy, probably because Robin's foot had cut off the flow of oxygen to my brain.

"I'm gonna throw your ass in prison." He said. "And I'm going to enjoy it."

I looked at him, blinked, then started laughing. The pressure on my throat increased, muffling my giggles, but not stopping them. When the lack of oxygen started to get to me, I paused. Robin eyed me suspiciously as I drew in a long, shaky breath and smiled broadly at him.

"What's so funny?" He demanded.

"You." I said, breathing heavily.

"You threaten me with jail time because I hurt your little magician friend. But you don't get it. It won't be enough, Robin."

"What?" He seemed puzzled.

"I'll be imprisoned, maybe in Arkham, maybe not. But I'm crazy, Robin, the whole world says so. No matter what you say or do, I will never be a prisoner. I'll be a mental patient, yes, but even the worst metahuman psychos get released from time to time. And even if I'm not, even if I stay in Arkham for the rest of my life, Zatanna will still have been hurt. You will still feel like you failed her. After awhile, you'll feel as guilty as if you'd started the fire yourself. You'll find yourself hating people simply for existing. You'll start to look for someone to blame. It doesn't even have to be their fault, as long as you convince yourself that it is and it makes you feel better. The grief and anger will consume you, Robin. And soon enough..."

I blinked and looked him dead in the eye. "You'll become just like me."

"...I'm not like you." He said firmly, but I noticed the hesitance. "I'll never be like you."

I was already shaking my head. "You say that now, but just wait. It'll happen one way or another, Robin. My advice: Don't fight it."

And with that, I let my head fall against the cool metal wall behind me and watched as a giant green tendril shot out of the darkness and wrapped around the boy's waist. Surprised, he tried to wriggle free but ended up just entangling himself more. I whistled once and watched as Matilda slammed Robin up against the wall and the floors multiple times before his body fell limp in her grasp. I reached out, checking for his pulse and smiled when I felt it. Good. I wasn't done playing with him yet.

I gave my beast an affectionate head pat, before turning to face the girl who came closer to dying than she could ever know tonight. Ravager's alabaster hair glowed in the low light and the shadows on her face seemed accented, making her look older than she was.

"Gather up the gear and let's get out of here." I ordered. "If you see anything interesting, take it. I don't think you will, though, the Legaue wouldn't be dumb enough to keep the really cool stuff in this dump."

"And what about him?" Ravager pointed to Robin's unconscious form.

I smiled and cooed a soft order into Matilda's blossom. She growled low in her throat, expressing her displeasure, and wrapped her strong appendages around Robin so he woudn't bounce around and fall off Matilda's back during the ride. I looked at Ravager, who was eyeing my plant warily as if she still expected Matilda to go on a rampage and eat someone.

Silly Ravager, Matilda only eats people when I say it's okay.

"Bird Boy's coming with." I said.

"This is ending, Ravager. Tonight. Screw planning, screw waiting around until I can take down all the people who turned me into a freak. Seeing Robin made me realize truly how bad I want my revenge. One way or another, I'm gonna spill some blood."

"Oh...okay." She said hesitantly, turning to collect our stuff. My hand shot out and found Ravager's shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. Stiffly, she turned around and met my gaze evenly. I searched her eyes for any sign of nervousness or guilt, and found none. I knew this didn't mean anything, though. Just because someone seems innocent, it doesn't mean they are.

"What were you and Robin talking about?" I asked.

"He, uh...asked me why I was working with you. Gave me a lot of crap about how I could do better and how I seemed 'different.' Pulling dirty tricks like he always does." she chuckled.

I didn't return the smile. The words I caught sounded innocent enough, but I couldnt't be absolutely sure. Something seemed...off about it. The tone, maybe. Or their expressions. And now, Ravager as trying to joke around with me. She didn't like me or trust me, ao why was she suddenly being so friendly?

"Fine." I relented, for now. "But Ravager?"

"Yeah?"

"If you ever hesitate like that again, I will kill you where you stand. Understand?"

She paused a moment and looked at me like I must be kidding, decided I wasn't, and nodded her agreement.

"I understand," She lowered her head. "It won't happen again."

"It better not..." I mumbled.

I watched Ravager leave with narrowed, suspicious eyes. I managed a smile when my gaze rested on the girl's shoulder. There, just below the shoulderblade, I planted a small explosive I found in Robin's belt.

If I see ever see even the slightest sign of betrayal in Ravager again, I'm going to blow my _new pal_ to smithereens.

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><p>Is it just me, or is no one updating their stories?<p>

Random: (I've been lazy when it comes to my random observations, haven't I?) Okay, so at the end of Depths, Black Manta congratulates Kaldur on telling the truth about what happened to the satellite. I'm so glad that honesty is a desired trait in the sons of psychotic supervillians working with the Light.

In all seriousness, I'm glad that Black Manta actually likes his kid (Yes, Kaldur is using his father to get to the Light, but that's irrelevant right now.) It's nice because there are other supervillians who treat their kids like crap and think of them as little more than lackeys. Icicle Senior, Imma lookin' at you. You hurt my baby, so now you have to die.


	16. Recruitment

First off, I cannot articulate how unbelievably sorry I am. I just got busy, and then my muse...kinda poofed for awhile.

* * *

><p>It's so hard to find good help these days.<p>

After leveling half the city, I sent Ravager off on some menial task while I stayed behind and tried to get some real work done. GRAY was still out there, and my sweet sister still has probably alerted me to them by now. Scanning the files laid out in front of me, I leaned back in the swivel chair and reached out to pat Matilda. The great beast let out a contented purr and nuzzled my hand.

It occurred to me, more than once, that I'd need some help if I was going to succeed. Other GRAY experiments would be ideal, but all my research suggested that I was the only human subject. A genetically altered orangutan would be fun, but ultimately counterproductive. Cadmus's Project Kr was too heavily influenced by Robin and his crew to be of any use.

Speaking of Robin...

"Matilda, be a peach and go guard bird boy's door, hm?" I smiled. She looked up at me with a sort of glare and lumbered off. Sighing, I made a mental note to give her something extra special for dinner and turned back to my work.

I wanted someone young, preferably of average-to-low intelligence. Cameron Mahkent came readily to mind, but he's far to loyal to his father. The file of a girl, around thirteen or so that led and protected a small gang of orphans. The corny name was a bit irksome, but the promise of soldiers was very appealing. I'd definitely have to keep her in mind.

But for now, I needed raw muscle. Brainless. Someone who was completely, totally, loyal to me.

Two hours later, I was standing inside a lab peering intently into a foggy Cadmus pod. "And you're sure that little doohickey of yours can control him?"

The girl beside me nervously twirled her cane with the Q-shaped tip. "Quite sure, Miss Mallory."

"Electrolyte." I corrected patiently, eyes never leaving the pod. "He's quite a looker. Completely feral, you say?"

"Yep." She eagerly nodded her frizzy red head.

"Fascinating." I murmured, laying my hand against the glass. "Get to work, then."

She hesitated. "What about my pay?"

"You'll get paid when I have my soldier."

"But..."

"_Now_, _Enigma_." I snarled. _That_ was enough to get her going. A pity, really. I'd hoped I could make to transaction without any fuss. Too bad she had to be difficult. Slowly, shakily, she opened the pod. When the smoke cleared, Match blinked his eyes and stumbled out. "Match?" I murmured. When I got no response, I cleared my throat and said louder. "Match, can you hear me?"

He glanced over at me, eyes blank and lifeless. "He can't talk." Enigma breathed, shuffling away from me as if expecting another explosive response.

"Really?" I grinned. "That's perfect. What does he eat?"

"He's human, 'lyte. Just tell him to chow down, and he will."

"Fantastic." I patted Enigma on the back. "The sum we agreed on will be delivered to your place of residence sometime within the week. You may go."

She looked startled. "But...But I thought..."

"If I wanted a partnership, I would've asked already." I hissed. "You. May. Go." Frightened, Enigma clutched her cane to her chest and darted from the room. I snorted. The girl was infuriating, but she did give me exactly what she promised. I'd have to keep her number, just in case. At least I could count on the fact that she was absolutely terrified of me.

No matter. Time to test out my new toy. "Match." I spoke calmly, clearly. "I am going to give you the coordinates to a GRAY facility." What I suspected to be one, anyway. It was a Cadmus lab, so even if I was wrong I'd still make a dent in my enemies' armor. "I want you to go there and destroy it. Collect info. You may kill one or two scientists there, to set an example. But if you find a Rebecca Mallory, bring her to me. Do you understand?"

A brief hesitation, and then Match nodded slowly.

"Excellent. Well, get to it."

...

Match did even better than I could've dreamed. Not only did he level the place, he did so without being seen once. The data he collected gave me almost definite locations to every single GRAY facility in America. Not that there weren't any in other countries, I was almost sure they had an especially large base in Tokyo and/or Beijing.

Satisfied, I leaned back and watched Ravager attempt to coax Match into eating something without much luck. It was entertaining to watch, at any rate. After an hour, Ravager finally gave up and tossed the rest of the food to Matilda.

"So what's next?"

"We wait." I replied, putting my feet up. GRAY would try again, most likely. Hopefully it'd be with an older subject, but my plan could be put off for a few years. There was the matter of taking care of it, of course. I'd need to find a suitable nanny. If I couldn't, I suppose I could try to see if my motherly instincts would ever kick in.

Ravager sputtered. I chose to ignore her. Instead, I took to watching Match. The clone's silence was refreshing, as well as unnerving. He rarely even did as much as blink. I felt a stab of pity for him. He was an innocent, after all.

I shook my head to clear it. "Every war requires a few sacrifices." I murmured to myself.

"Hm?" Ravager glanced up.

"Nothing." I steadied her with a look. "What are you doing, exactly?"

She shrugged. "Just tinkering with something I took off Robin. It's really quite interesting."

I stood up and moved to her side, taking the object from her hands. It was one of his smoke bombs, deactivated. I rolled it around in my palm before laying it back down.

"Did Matilda give Robin his dinner?"

"She tried." Ravager looked down. "He wouldn't eat. She knocked him out again."

I rolled my eyes. "As soon as I don't need him anymore, I'll be glad to be rid of him. Now..." My scowl twisted up into a grin. "Now, I'm going to go play with some of the stuff Match brought me. You're welcome to join." I turned on my heel and walked away, giggling. Ravager followed me reluctantly, maintaining a safe distance. So antsy anymore, that one.

While Ravager toyed with the beakers and vials, I grabbed a sheaf of papers and started leafing through them. A bunch of boring stuff and figures that made my head swim. I skimmed over most of it, ignoring the unimportant things. "Interesting." I mused, setting the folder down. "Very interesting. That should be impossible."

"Hm?"

"Time travel, Ravager." I pointed. "The files I've been looking at have all mentioned building...something that could actually _take you to a different time. _Imagine the possibilities!"

"You'd probably create a rip in the time space continuum and kill us all."

"Negative Nancy." I sniffed. "Just think, I could visit the Aztecs...Or maybe collect some antique junk to sell to nerds over the internet.."

"Time space continuum, Quinn."

"Winning lottery numbers?"

"...Okay, maybe." Ravager conceded. "But I still think..."

"_Success_!" I pumped my fists into the air.

"Quinn, I just..."

"Hush, you'll ruin it." I smiled, jumping a little when my phone started buzzing. I pulled it out of my pocket and pulled it to my ear, stuffing a finger into my other ear to stifle the sound. "'Ello?" I listened for a few minutes, then grinned.

"Get the posse rounded up, Rav. We're going on a road trip."

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><p>Alright, I know its short but I needed to get something down before my muse skittered off again. Maybe now everything will flow a little better. As always, suggestions as to where to take it from here are welcome. :3<p> 


	17. Author's Note

I know I've been absent from for a very, very long time, and I am sorry

My laptop was busted for the longest time, and even though I've since gotten it fixed I've found that I've sort of fallen out of the habit. I can't tell you how many times I've sat down to write only to draw a complete blank. If any of you have an idea about where I can take this story next, I'd love to here it.

I promise I'll try to be better.


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